Discovery
by danakate
Summary: Callen helps Nell out of a dangerous situation which leads to the support staff being trained to protect themselves. Along the way, Nell and Callen grow close and she helps him learn to be himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating/Warnings:** R (for cursing, violence, and adult themes – the content is about on par with what would be in an episode except for the cursing). General show spoilers through season 2, but departs from the canon timeline before the season 2 finale.

**Betas:** vegarin and fringedweller - you guys are rockstars 3

**Summary:** Callen helps Nell out of a dangerous situation which leads to the support staff being trained to protect themselves. Along the way, Nell and Callen grow close and she helps him learn to be himself.

**Author's notes:** I've never written fic for _NCIS: LA_ so, I figured, why not do a big bang for it as my first! The fandom is tiny, so if you are a fan and you read this, I do hope you like it. The pairing is definitely non-traditional. I'm not sure why I thought of it…I think I just thought it'd be interesting if Nell and Callen interacted more and it just exploded from there. All specifics about Nell Jones, Venezuela, and all things military are made up. Also, I apologize for the title. I'm bad at thinking up good ones.

Written for the LJ het-bigbang 2011 challenge.

* * *

><p>She really should know better.<p>

Nell might be the new girl, but she's also an intelligence analyst. She _observes_ things..._analyzes_ them. Intelligently.

She really, _really_ should know better.

True, she came on after Dom's unfortunate departure, but she'd read the report. Then there was the most recent incident with Deeks. Not to mention Eric's first foray into field work and almost ending up, well, frelted. Nell should be fully aware of potential consequences when caught off guard. Yet somehow she doesn't know better than to leave work well after dark and on foot, no less?

Since their group is special operations, their accommodations are nice but by no means in the best part of town or a very noticeable part of town. The building is "condemned," after all.

And, of course, her car chose that morning to have its alternator die so it was in the shop and she had to take public transportation. The closest bus stop is 3 blocks away, but she isn't going to use the same stop she arrived on.

"Damned research," Nell mutters. Hetty had given her some subjects to look into and, not surprisingly, she'd gotten buried in it and lost track of the time.

She has her day bag clutched close to her, in front, and she's walking quickly but (she hopes) confidently. The bus stop she's aiming for is just shy of a mile away and the last bus will be there in about 20 minutes.

"Should have called a cab," she chastises herself.

Nell almost doesn't hear the footsteps behind her, but when she does, it takes all her willpower _not_ to speed up. That would definitely result in a chase, one she'd probably lose. She's small and lithe, but panic has a funny way of being self-defeating.

The second set of footsteps, though, that's a different matter entirely.

Nell keeps her breathing even, strains her hearing to determine how close her followers are. There's no way she's going to turn around. She looks ahead and curses mentally. There's a whole block in darkness, the streetlamp having blown out or been broken. She tries to think fast, but her options are running out. Her mental map of the area is full of dead ends or turns to even less populated areas. Readjusting the strap on her bag, Nell steadies her breathing. So far, the people behind her are keeping about the same distance as before. Maybe they're just out for a walk...

Nell hears the unmistakable sound of metal sliding on metal. Probably a knife.

Shit.

As her feet hit the edge of the darkened block, Nell takes a deep breath and makes a run for it.

She hears a muffled curse behind her and then her followers are running, too.

Of course, the fates seemed to be in a bad mood that day. The path she is on is uneven, so Nell doesn't feel like her feet are finding enough purchase to really get up to speed. And then there's the loose piece of pavement that comes out of nowhere that trips her up, causing her to lose her momentum.

She doesn't fall, but it's enough to let her assailants catch up to her. One of them grabs her left wrist. Nell's self-defense training kicks in and she's able to twist out of the grasp. But then they grab her on both upper arms and lift her feet right off the ground. Nell fights the urge to pull away mindlessly. Most likely she'd end up hurting herself, but mainly she doesn't want to waste precious time and energy on such futile movements.

But there's that panic thing again.

Nell doesn't do "out of control." She knows she has control issues and in the back of her mind she's filing away this incident as yet another reason why. Not being in control gets you in trouble. And she's in trouble.

"Hey, girlie," one of the men hisses at her. "You play nice and we won't hurt you."

"Too much," the other one growls.

Nell freezes. Somehow, hearing their voices makes the stark reality of her situation that much more real.

"That's better," the first one says.

And then she reacts. Nell strikes out with a foot, catching one man in the gut. She starts to fall when the man does and she kicks again, landing a blow to the other man's knee, but he doesn't let go, so when he falls over she goes with him. Nell can feel the shock of hitting the pavement all the way up her body when her knee hits the ground, hard.

"Why you little-"

She doesn't hear the rest of it as the first man backhands her so hard across the face she falls backwards a good five feet.

"This is it," Nell thinks to herself as she struggles to regain her senses. "These men are going to assault me and then who knows what."

But the inevitable doesn't come. She's vaguely aware of a scuffle, but her mind processes it as the two men regrouping.

Slowly, Nell pushes herself up to a sitting position. Her vision is still swimming a little and her ears ring from when one of the men hit her. She can barely make out a third figure, which is difficult enough in the dim lighting but even more so with the pain. It seems like the newcomer is beating the crap out of the other two. Part of her mind cheers, the other fervently hopes this stranger is a Good Samaritan and not a vicious rival.

It's over almost as quickly as it had started and her two attackers lie in groaning heaps on the ground. The third man straightens up and slowly approaches her. She still can't make him out in the virtually non-existent lighting.

"Nell?"

Her breath comes out in a rush-she didn't realize she'd been holding it in.

A noise escapes her lips, it sounds oddly like a whimper. She means to respond with a question of her own: "Callen?" But it ends up coming out something like: "Hrhghhrhg?"

He offers her his hand and gently pulls her up, moving her into a more lighted area. Nell is immensely happy to see him, but the expression on his face makes her cringe a little. Callen keeps his emotions buried deep, but for an instant Nell's pretty sure she sees rage. She really hopes it isn't directed at her for being so dumb.

She blinks and then the normal Callen mask is in place.

Callen touches her face gently with a finger, directing her to move her head so he can see her and assess the damage.

Nell tastes blood, so she figures her lip is split. The whole left side of her face stings, too, from where one of the men struck her. Her right side aches from when she fell.

"Are you okay?" he asks, eyes flitting over her face, visually assessing the rest of her.

"I...think so," she manages. Definitely a busted lip. "Why...how...how did you find me?"

"I went back to the office just after you left," he says, still looking her over. "I always check who the last person to leave was and noticed you'd armed the door just a couple minutes before I got there."

"Okay," Nell responds, still dazed.

Callen gently turns her back in the direction she'd come, avoiding the men still lying on the ground.

"We're not far. It'll be easier to look at your injuries at the office," he explains.

"Uh huh." Nell's pretty much on auto-pilot at this point, wondering if she might be in shock.

"Anyway, I remembered Eric saying your car was in the shop so I figured I'd see how far you'd gotten and offer you a ride since it was so late."

"Oh."

Feeling starts to come back to her face and it _hurts_. And so does her right ankle. Nell starts to limp.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just banged up a bit."

Nell tries to scrunch up her face but it hurts too much. Did she just slur?

Callen makes a noise as if he doesn't believe her.

"I saw you got in a couple pretty good kicks, but you got clocked hard."

She doesn't even bother to make a sound. The vibration of her feet hitting the ground rattles her teeth. Nell wonders idly if maybe some are loose.

Callen puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her and she does. She looks up at him, but doesn't have the strength to ask him what's going on.

Nell doesn't-can't-protest when Callen effortlessly picks her up in his arms, holding her close.

They don't speak as Callen makes his way back to the compound, which suits Nell fine. She couldn't have had a conversation even if she wanted to, so she focuses on blocking the pain with varying degrees of success.

She's given up holding her head straight and is practically snuggled against Callen, his chin just at the top of her head, when he arrives at the office. He sets her on her feet to key the door open, but picks her up again and carries her to the lounge couch. He catches her eye and she acknowledges she's okay for the moment with a slight nod of the head, which, miraculously, doesn't cause her any pain.

Nell watches, almost detached from herself, as Callen walks away, presumably to the first aid kit. She focuses on not moving.

As the minutes tick by, Nell starts to relax. Callen returns, first aid kit in one hand, a mug of tea in the other. He pulls the coffee table closer to her and sits on it, facing her. Their knees are almost touching and Nell thinks she can feel the heat from his body.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, opening the first aid kit.

"Better," she replies. "It doesn't hurt to breathe."

Callen smiles and she thinks, not for the first time, that he's quite attractive.

He scoots forward even further and now his knees are not only touching hers but caging them. Callen reaches towards her and grasps her chin lightly and tilts her head slightly. He's looking right into her eyes and Nell isn't sure what he's looking for but she kind of hopes he never finds it so she can keep swimming in the depths of his blue eyes.

"Well, I don't think you have a concussion," he muses, finally looking away.

Nell isn't so sure, given the way her thoughts are going. This isn't how she normally acts, but then this isn't really a normal kind of night.

"But be sure to tell me if you feel dizzy or nauseous," he continues while he digs through the first aid kit.

"Okay."

"This, however, is probably going to sting," Callen announces, producing a cotton swab and antiseptic. "Do you want to do this or I?"

"Um, I don't-ow." Clearly, it still hurts to move her mouth.

"Right," Callen responds, then moves to sit beside her on the couch.

And then he's _right_ there. Right next to her. His leg is right up against hers and he has a hand on the back of her neck, holding her head still.

Nell does feel a little lightheaded, but she's pretty sure it doesn't have anything to do with getting hit on the head.

She flinches when the antiseptic hits her split lip, but his hand on her head makes it impossible to move far.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I'll try to be quick."

As Callen works, Nell observes and analyzes. He is intent on what he's doing, seeming not to care that he's practically on top of her. And Nell realizes this is just another assignment. Callen has always been protective of his people and it makes sense that she's part of that group since she and Eric provide valuable support, just not in the line of fire.

Nell's thoughts begin to clear as her brain starts functioning normally and the shock of the night's events starts to fade. She resists the urge to actually shake her head, knowing it will likely bring on a fresh wave of pain.

"Here," Callen says, handing her the mug of tea and two aspirin. "You'll probably have a wicked headache later, but this should help."

"Thanks," she says, smiling slightly. She can feel the tug of the broken skin on her lip. Nell takes a moment to figure out how to drink the tea without further injuring her lip and eventually settles on a method that mostly works.

"And you'll need this." Callen hands her a cold pack and she carefully places it on her jaw, simultaneously gasping in shock and sighing in relief at the cold against her battered skin.

"Now," he says, pulling out a bandage wrap. "I'll take a look at your ankle."

"Okay," she says, not resisting when he picks up her right foot, cradling it in his lap.

Callen's fingers are warm and gentle. Nell tries not to think about it, which is difficult, given the circumstances. But his touch is also methodical, clinical, and his examination of her foot and ankle is quick.

"Well, there's no swelling, so you probably just tweaked it. I'll wrap it up so you'll have some stability."

Nell says nothing, watching Callen wrap her foot with efficiency. He gives her a reassuring smile when he's done, patting her ankle, and gently setting it back down on the floor. She sips her tea as Callen re-packs the kit and returns it to its rightful place.

"Thank you," she says when he returns. "I don't want to think about what might have happened if you hadn't shown up."

He shrugs and sits on the coffee table in front of her again. "You would have done the same if you'd had the opportunity."

Nell looks away, then, suddenly ashamed. "Somehow, I don't think you would have gotten into the same kind of situation."

He says nothing, but she won't look at him. His knee nudges hers.

"Hey."

Nell looks at him and is surprised to see compassion, not disappointment, in his eyes.

"Things happen," he says. "You can't always predict how everything will go down and you can't always prepare for everything."

Logically, she knows what he's saying. She looks down at the mug in her hand.

"Nell," he says, leaning forward and looking up into her eyes. "What happened tonight wasn't your fault. It could have happened to any of us."

"I...understand what you're saying," she responds, holding his gaze. "I just..."

"Think you could have done more?" Callen finishes, smiling softly. "You know what? What happened tonight has revealed another deficiency in our training regimen, I think."

Nell frowns in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I've read your file. Unlike Eric, you've had firearms training and hand-to-hand combat, right?"

She nods.

"That's good, but it's just training. Just because you know the moves, doesn't mean you know how to use them in a real fight."

"But I'm not a field agent."

Callen shakes his head dismissively. "Doesn't matter. The support group-you and Eric, for example-are just as important. Without you, we're blind and lacking information."

She doesn't say anything, still processing his words.

"You've been out with us a couple times when you've had to," Callen continues. "Can you imagine what might've happened if you'd been taken during one of our cases?"

"But I'm just an intelligence analyst...oh."

He nods, smirking slightly. "Exactly. And a good one. All the things you know...that Eric knows...in the wrong hands, it could be extremely dangerous."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Talk to Hetty," he answers.

He seems to come to some sort of mental conclusion and then stands. "Ready to go? You should get some rest. I'll drive you."

"Yeah, I think so," Nell replies, standing slowly. She tries out her aching ankle gingerly and flexes her foot a few times.

"Good?" Callen asks.

"Nothing a hot soak and some rest won't solve."

Nell takes it slow, stopping by the kitchen area to drop off her mug before meeting up with Callen at the entrance. He keys in the code to arm the alarm and shuts the operations center down for the night.

* * *

><p>Callen watches from his car as Nell slowly makes her way to her apartment. He'd debated walking her to her door, but by the time they'd arrived, he could tell she was feeling self-conscious and likely would have perceived his presence as hovering. So, he watches and then waits a full five minutes in the parking lot before heading home. His mind is racing and he's a little surprised at how angry he is at the thugs who attacked Nell.<p>

As he pulls out of the complex, he speed dials Sam.

"Hey, I need you to look into something for me."

"What's up?"

"Nell got jumped tonight."

"_What_? Is—"

"I took care of it," Callen interrupts.

Sam's silent for a long moment. "What do you need?"

"I'm more concerned about who these jerks are. I don't want to involve Eric, yet."

"Understandable. Send me what you have, I'll get on it."

Callen ends the call and forwards a few items from his phone to Sam.

* * *

><p>He's waiting for her outside her apartment building the next morning.<p>

"What are you doing here?" she blurts out.

Callen is leaning casually against his car. "Good morning to you, too," he says with a grin.

"Sorry, good morning," Nell replies, ducking her head in embarrassment. "I just wasn't expecting you."

He shrugs and pushes off the car to walk closer to her. "I figured since your car was in the shop I'd give you a lift."

"And check up on me?" her tone is more abrupt than she intends.

Callen's eyebrows rise slightly. "You just come out and say what's on your mind, don't you?"

"I'm working on it."

He shakes his head. "Don't. It's refreshing. And, yes, to check up on you."

Callen hooks a finger under her chin again and examines her face. He grimaces when he sees the bruising on her chin.

"Ouch, that looks painful," he murmurs.

"I'm sure you've had worse."

"Maybe. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

Nell considers the statement and nods in agreement. Truth be told, it hurt so much she couldn't even apply what little makeup she sometimes wore to cover it up.

"Nell? Is everything all right?" a neighbor calls as she walks up the sidewalk. She eyes Callen suspiciously when she sees Nell's bruises. "Who's this?"

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Miller," Nell says, trying to placate the older woman. "This is one of my colleagues."

"Callen," he introduces, offering a hand and flashing one of his dazzling smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Are you one of Miss Jones's neighbors?"

"Yes," Mrs. Miller replies, not quite sure what to make of Callen. "I live two doors down." She turns back to Nell, "What happened, dear?"

"I had a run-in with some would-be muggers," Nell admits, knowing full well the older woman will worry but also knowing it'll be worse if she doesn't say anything. "Callen happened to come by at just the right time and helped me out."

Mrs. Miller's attitude towards Callen instantly changes. "Well! It's nice to know there are still decent people in this world," she replies, giving Callen an approving look. "Thank you for taking care of our Nell, here."

"It was my pleasure," Callen replies.

"You two have a nice day," Mrs. Miller calls as she makes her way back to her apartment, giving Nell a significant look with her eyes flicking towards Callen.

"And you, ma'am."

Nell sighs softly.

"What was that look all about?" Callen asks.

Damn. "Oh, you saw that?"

He just looks at her.

"Of course you did." Nell blows out a breath. "Let's just say she's been trying to set me up with every available man within about a 3 mile radius ever since I moved in."

"And I'm an available man?" he smirks.

Nell stares. "Worse."

"Worse?"

"Since you saved me, she probably thinks you're my knight in shining armor, now."

Nell swats at Callen's arm when he starts to grin. He side steps and chuckles.

"My Lady," he mocks, opening the passenger side door for her.

Nell sighs heavily and gets in.

* * *

><p>When they walk into the office, Nell's surprised to find a small audience waiting for her.<p>

Deeks and Sam are doing their over-protective big brother thing. Kensi's hanging back, but Nell can see the concern on her face. Eric is bouncing in his flip flops and looks like he wants to hug her.

"What'd you find out?" Callen asks Sam.

Nell looks at him in confusion.

"Ordinary thugs," Sam said.

Callen nods and Nell notices a tiny bit of tension has left him.

"Are you okay?" Eric finally asks, rushing forward and stopping right in front of her.

"Yeah, just sore," she says. "What thugs?" she directs at Callen.

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna were following up on the identities of your attackers, Miss Jones."

Hetty appears around the edge of the gathering, hands behind her back. She walks up to Nell and studies her face. Hetty's features are stuck on "disdain" as her eyes follow the length of the bruising.

"In case they targeted me specifically?" she asks slowly.

"There was a chance they could have been hired to snatch you for interrogation, like we discussed," Callen adds.

"Ah," Nell replies. She's not sure if she feels better about that or not. "But they weren't."

"Nope," Sam supplies. "Just regular street thugs. They have extensive records: petty theft, armed robbery, muggings...you know the type."

"In any case," Hetty announces, "this situation has brought to light an even more urgent need to revamp our training regimen-even for our support staff."

"What did you have in mind?" Sam asks.

"It's quite simple, really. I propose the addition of at least one _tactical_ training session to accompany each _practical_ training session," Hetty explains.

"Well, what's the difference?" Eric asks, clearly confused.

Both Hetty and Callen look at Nell. Deeks opens his mouth to speak, but Kensi elbows him to stay quiet.

"That would be exactly what happened to me," Nell says. "I've had some training, but it's just...by the book training. I've had firearms training, but only on the range with a stationary paper target. I've had hand-to-hand combat training, but only with specific forms and scenarios. I have the tools, but none of it came close to what I needed to handle getting jumped."

Callen's hand on her shoulder surprises her and Nell realizes she's wrapped her arms around herself. She forces herself to relax.

"Precisely," Hetty says. "Tactical training for support personnel will have a slightly different focus than what our active field agents have."

"How so?" Deeks pipes up.

"We hire the best and brightest for our support personnel, thus, their area of expertise is not offense," Hetty explains.

"You want to train them to be able to get out of a situation quickly," Sam interjects.

"Indeed, Mr. Hanna."

Eric purses his lips and tilts his head in thought. "That makes sense. When does this new training begin?"

"Immediately," Hetty says, pinning him with her gaze. "Mr. Hanna, would you kindly give Mr. Beale his first training session in hand-to-hand combat? Since Mr. Beale has had virtually no self-defense training, you'll have to combine practical and tactical material."

Eric's face pales, which is a feat given he is already quite pale despite his ocean surfing habits.

"With pleasure," Sam says with glee. "Come on, Eric." He claps a hand heavily on Eric's shoulder, literally making the other man stagger.

"What about me?" Nell asks, watching her partner glumly leave the room.

"You, Miss Jones, will begin your training a little later in the week," Hetty says. "Given your current injuries, I feel it would be best to let you recover for at least a couple more days."

Nell nods.

"But, you will be properly prepared, my dear," Hetty says, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "I am so sorry this happened to you."

"Hetty, there's no way you could have known," Nell pleads.

"Nevertheless, I am responsible for each and every employee here and to know that we have not done what was needed to ensure your safety is inexcusable."

Nell merely nods, knowing she can't change the other woman's mind.

"Now, while Mr. Beale is-"

"Getting his ass kicked?" Callen helpfully supplies.

"I was going to say _learning_, Mr. Callen," Hetty glares. "While Mr. Beale is otherwise occupied, I think it'd be a good idea for you to cover his station, Miss Jones."

"Will do," Nell answers, heading upstairs.

"Mr. Callen, a word, if you will." Hetty turns and heads to her office area.

* * *

><p>Callen stays where he's standing for a moment longer as he watches Nell make her way upstairs. It's clear her ankle is still bothering her, but he knows it takes time to recover from injuries of any sort, no matter the severity. He also knows Nell's a capable woman. He'd seen how she fought against the men. She's quick and she's trained, but she hasn't been trained to <em>fight<em>.

"Mr. Callen?" Hetty calls.

"On my way, Hetty."

He strides over to Hetty's open office space and sits in a chair in front of her desk. They regard each other in silence for a moment.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Hetty finally asks.

"I think it's better than letting them fend for themselves."

Hetty nods. "How was she, after?"

"Nell? As well as could be expected," Callen responds, settling deeper into the chair. "She actually did pretty well. The guy who hit her really hit her hard. I'm surprised she stayed conscious."

"Mr. Callen, please don't break my furniture."

Callen looks at his hands, surprised to find his knuckles white as he grips the arm rests on the chair.

"Sorry," he murmurs, crossing his arms instead.

"Perhaps you should redirect your feelings on the subject towards establishing a training program for our support staff, specifically for Miss Jones."

Callen's eyebrow goes up. "You want me to supervise her training?"

"Weren't you going to anyway?"

Point.

"I'll start her off with Kensi."

"Because she's a woman."

Callen shrugs. "Nell can benefit from information from all of us. But, yes, Kensi can offer particular insight of interest. And I think the support staff should train and spar amongst themselves, too. It'll give them a chance to see what it's like facing off against similar kinds of people."

"A good plan," Hetty agrees. "I'll inform Director Vance, as well, should the need arise to implement a course like this at other NCIS facilities."

* * *

><p>Eric stumbles into Ops an hour later, noticeably limping. Nell arches an eyebrow at him but opts not to speak when Eric puts a hand up.<p>

He eases down into his chair and sighs in contentment. Moments pass.

"Who knew you could inflict so much pain with one finger?"

"I hope you took notes," Nell quips with a smile.

Eric swivels and looks back at her. "Oh, I did. And video. Sam made sure I tried everything he taught me several times. He even let me try them on him."

"And?"

He turns away. "Let's just say I'll be reviewing the video in the privacy of my own home."

"That bad, huh?"

Eric gives her a sardonic look. "Do you have to ask?"

Nell gives him a sympathetic smile. "So…do you think this is a good idea?"

Eric sighs, winces, and settles into a more comfortable position.

"I…think so," he replies. "I mean, I get it, Sam's a former SEAL, so he's obviously going to have way better skills than I ever will. And, given what…happened…precautions are necessary. This is just going to, well…"

"Suck for a while?" Nell finishes.

"Yeah," Eric agrees, tentatively stretching.

Nell nods and she reflects on everything that's happened in such a short period of time. She still hasn't gotten over the sheer helplessness she felt last night.

She isn't a field agent, but Nell has had some weapons and hand-to-hand combat training. NCIS support staff aren't required to, but it seemed like a good idea, especially since she's had to do some intelligence gathering and forensics on some of the weapons confiscated during a case. A working knowledge of the tools used in criminal investigations seemed practical. The hand-to-hand training did, too, given some of the unsavory sorts of people who end up being found at the end of a case.

But, Nell is in the business of information gathering..._ sensitive_ information gathering. And she's good at it. Nell is one of the best when it comes to gathering information, dissecting it, analyzing it, and extracting crucial pieces of information from it. It's one of the reasons she's part of NCIS's special operations group.

She'd been recruited by the CIA and the NSA, but opted not to take those opportunities. Instead, she went to the Office of Naval Intelligence and spent a few years becoming an expert on South American issues. The Navy was part of her family. Her father had been in the Navy, and his father before him. And, while ONI and NCIS are civilian organizations, the subjects they often dealt with kind of reminded her of home, but in a tangential sort of way.

The point, though, is that she isn't an agent, and while she made an effort to learn skills utilized more by field agents, clearly it wasn't enough.

The main terminal beeps, bringing her back to the moment. Files start popping up on her display.

"But, I'll worry about that later," Eric muses, reading the bulletin. "We've got a new case."

* * *

><p>The next several days are business as usual as the field agents are occupied with the latest case. Deeks has the pleasure of going undercover as a street bum again, but with the added humiliation of having to actually sleep in a pile of garbage. Kensi still won't let him ride with her. Sam gets to body check Callen into a wall to gain the trust of their suspect-Callen's still wincing. But, after a successful wrap up, the team falls into a new routine of training amongst all the staff.<p>

It's a week after the attack before Nell's turn is up. Kensi comes to her near the end of the day and, surprisingly, takes her out for a walk and not towards the gym.

"So, how does this work?" Nell asks.

"Well, I figured I'd find out what you know already and we'd go from there. You're a little different from the rest of the support staff," Kensi says. "You seem to have a little more training."

Nell shrugs. "I don't really advocate the use of weapons or fighting, but it's not like I can control the kinds of people I interact with, especially in our line of business. It seemed like a good idea to know how to use the tools, even if I don't really utilize them."

Kensi mulls over the information for a moment. "That's a very practical line of thinking. Has your point of view changed at all since…"

"Since I was attacked?" Nell asks. "Well, I know now that what I do know isn't enough. But…"

"But?" Kensi encourages.

"How far do you go?"

"Ah," Kensi says, stopping at a bench and gesturing for Nell to sit. "That's an important question."

"That night, Callen told me that you can't always prepare for everything," Nell starts. "But I can't help but think that I should have been able to do more…that if I'd gone a little further with training I could have dealt with it. If Callen hadn't been there…"

Silence falls between the two women.

Kensi breaks it first. "He's right, you know. You can't prepare for everything. We're caught off guard all the time, human nature makes it impossible for us to know every possible move."

"You guys seem to do pretty well," Nell observes, kicking the ground with her foot.

Kensi smiles and catches Nell's eye. "This is why we have tactical field training. We're exposed to combat situations all the time, so it becomes second nature to us. But it never happens the same way twice, so there's no procedure to follow. It's very easy for something to go wrong and it almost always does. At least a little."

"So how do you make tactical training effective for those of us who aren't exposed to combat situations very often, if at all?"

"I think," Kensi begins, rising and moving back towards the office, "we're supposed to arm you guys with a couple key pointers and some actual instruction and application. Like Hetty said, your goal is to get away, not stay and fight."

Nell nods. "So what do we do first? I kind of expected us to start off in the gym, not go for a walk."

Kensi smiles, a little mischief in her eyes. "Oh, we'll get to the gym in a minute, but like I said, I wanted to know what you knew and I didn't really mean training. Fighting is different for women. Most likely, your opponents will be men. I'm going to teach you how to use that to your advantage."

"My advantage?"

"Absolutely," Kensi says. She eyes Nell critically. "You're small, but I bet you're fast. Most men are very uncomfortable fighting a woman. They either think we're weak or, if they know better, don't want their pride hurt if we kick their asses."

Nell snickers.

"It's true! Deeks hates it when I one-up him when we spar. Sam used to pout a whole lot more when we fought."

"And Callen?"

Kensi lets out a laugh. "Let's just say there was a point where I didn't have to buy my own beer for a long, long time."

Nell laughs with her, then asks, "So, what will we do first?"

"Well, I think I want to do a little small group training. Callen asked me to make sure to spend some time with all the female support staff and offer my insights on appropriate tactics for you guys. Some of that we can do one-on-one, but small groups will help, I think."

"Sounds reasonable. Do we start today?"

"Yep. A couple of the other women should be waiting for us when we get back."

* * *

><p>After some consideration, Kensi decides to start training with groups of 3-4 women at a time. It's mostly hand-to-hand, close quarters combat, because it's unfortunately the most common assault a woman alone on the street will likely face. She teaches them the quickest, most effective way to break a hold on an assailant, emphasizing that they can't worry about hitting them too hard. Of course, when she has them practice on each other, she's there to make sure they don't actually hurt each other and to utilize plenty of padding when necessary.<p>

"Remember," she coaches. "Whether it's a man or another woman coming at you, either way they're trying to hurt you and you don't want that. You can't pop them in the face, say you're sorry, and then help them up. And this isn't like the movies where you're going for the world's longest fight scene. The faster you can get them down and out of the picture, the faster you can get away to safety."

Someone snickers from the doorway and Kensi turns to see Deeks, casually leaning against the frame, a couple other guys peeking in around him.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, slowly turning to face the man. This isn't the first time Deeks and the others have shown up at the training room. And this isn't the first time she's had to forcibly throw them out.

The third time she has to, she's more than a little pissed off.

Deeks at least seems to have enough of a sense of self-preservation not to say anything in public and he's careful not to be within striking range whenever possible. But he does slip comments to her in private. Kensi's always been able to ignore his banter and teasing before, but somehow this is different.

After she breaks her second coffee mug, Callen takes her aside. They stand in a little alcove on the second floor. Kensi is pacing. Fast. Callen's leaning against the wall, a picture of serenity.

"I know, I know," she starts, wanting to hold off on the lecture she thinks is coming. "I shouldn't let him get to me. It's just...really hard to concentrate when Deeks is making stupid suggestive remarks. Things like, 'You can practice your moves on me anytime'."

Callen tries not to smirk, but fails. Kensi smacks him on the arm. But the lecture doesn't come.

"Kens, why don't you let him?"

"What? And let him have the satisfaction?"

"I was thinking more to give the women a chance to kick some ass," he says with a smile before pushing off from the wall and turning to leave. "Or is that 'an ass'? In any case, I think getting beat up by a woman, in front of other women, will go a long way to adjusting Deeks's attitude, don't you?"

He hears her cackling for a long, long while.

* * *

><p>At the next group session with the women and Kensi, Deeks and a couple of the support staff men are hanging outside the training room door as usual. Kensi approaches them and Deeks gives her his most charming, suggestive smile.<p>

He takes a step back and his smile falters just a little when she smirks in return.

"Hi, guys!" Kensi greets.

Way. Too. Happily.

Before any of them can react, she grabs them-Deeks by the front of his shirt-and forces them into the training room, slamming the door behind them.

"Kens? Hey, come on," Deeks says. There's a look of mild concern on his face. The other two guys are hiding behind him, eyeing the other women warily.

"I think we need to introduce some variety into our training." Kensi asks, "What do you think, ladies?"

Sounds of assent come from the women as well as vigorous head nods. Nell's in the group, too, and Kensi smiles broadly when she sees the smaller woman turn to the side and cover her mouth with her hand.

A voice comes from the doorway: "Sounds like a great plan."

Kensi spins around, clearly surprised to see Callen. She hadn't heard the door open.

"Part of the goal of this training is to give everyone the opportunity to learn and be exposed to as many different situations we can safely provide," Callen explains, addressing the whole room.

The guys are visibly disappointed. Clearly they'd hoped Callen would save them.

"I'm sure Agent Blye has more than adequately prepared you to demonstrate your skills on each other," he continues.

"Absolutely," she confirms.

"The show's all yours," he nods. "What's first?"

Kensi smiles, again, and it's clear Callen is struggling not to laugh.

"More like, who," she answers, staring right at Deeks. "We always start with an overview before breaking off into group exercises."

Deeks starts backing away again, but this time the other two men propel him forward. He spends the next several minutes mostly on the mat as Kensi takes him down repeatedly.

"Now, obviously, your opponents aren't going to just stand there and let you assault them," Kensi explains. "Just remember, the most important thing is not to panic."

Half a beat later, Deeks has Kensi in a choke hold. They grapple for several moments and just when it looks like Deeks is going to win the round, Kensi uses her smaller size, speed, and flexibility to out maneuver him and Deeks goes down one more time.

"Okay," Deeks breathes. "I have to admit, that was good."

"Thanks," Kensi says, helping him off the mat with a smile.

"So," she continues, clapping her hands together. "Have at it, ladies!"

The women turn to look at Callen and the other men. Kensi swears she hears squeals of glee from some of them. She starts to feel a little apprehensive. Maybe her demonstration with Deeks was a little bit too enthusiastic...

"Callen, why don't you take Nell?" Kensi instructs.

"Sure," he answers.

Kensi blows a breath out, happy to know she won't have to worry about at least one pair. Now, she just has to make sure the other women don't rip apart the rest of the guys.

"Uh, don't worry," she says to the rest of the group. "Deeks and I will be supervising to make sure no one gets hurt."

There's at least one sigh of disappointment.

* * *

><p>Callen gestures at Nell and they wander off to the far side of the gym so they have room to work.<p>

"So, I haven't had a chance to ask," he begins. "How is the training going for you?"

"Uh, good," she says, looking up at him earnestly. "Kensi's taught us a lot of useful things. I can only hope I can remember it all for when it's needed."

Callen smiles. "Practice makes perfect. Now you know why we're sparring all the time."

"So...what first?"

"Kensi's been teaching you how to break out of holds?"

Nell nods.

"Then we'll start with that."

They spend a few minutes working through the basics. Callen's hold on Nell is never very strong, but she's still too timid.

"Well, you understand the basics, but you really need to apply it more," he says. "Let's try it again, but this time I won't give in so easily."

And, true to his word, Callen keeps his hold on Nell and she isn't able to do much about it.

"Use a little more force," he instructs, his voice low.

He's surprised when she stops moving. And then Callen takes note of their position. His lips are _right_ by her ear and he's pretty sure the edge of his mouth grazed her earlobe when he spoke. He's so close to her, Nell's short hair is tickling his face and he can smell the fragrance of her shampoo. It's something mildly floral.

Slightly alarmed at just how intimate their position is, Callen backs off a tiny bit, moving his head to the side. That movement seems to spur Nell into action and she does as she's told, yanking and pushing in the way Kensi taught her and with a noticeable upwards change in force. Callen allows himself to be pulled off balance and falls to the mat.

"You got me." He smiles up at her, propping himself up on an elbow.

Nell seems surprised she's still standing and he's not and then the most amazing look crosses her features and Callen forgets to breathe for a few beats.

It isn't the look of desire or lust or any of the normal kinds of things that catches a man's attention. It isn't even the look of fear or anger that fighting situations often bring out. Instead it's something much more powerful and, unfortunately, rare that it literally takes his breath away.

It is the look of empowerment.

Callen realizes it's the lack of confidence in her own abilities that's making Nell hold back. And this moment is the first-of many, he hopes-when she realizes she is capable of more than intelligence gathering and analysis.

He picks himself off the mat and faces her. "Again?"

"Yes."

The reply comes quickly and Callen forces himself not to laugh. He's glad, really, that she's eager to learn and apply what she knows to practical situations.

He changes his hold for the next try. Now, he has one arm around her waist, the other is across her shoulders. Her arms are pinned inside the cage he's made.

"This is an unconventional hold," he explains. "It's weaker, because I don't have a grip on myself to hold you in place, but until you can work out how to exploit the weakness, it's pretty effective."

"So-"

Nell's words are cut off by Kensi asking for the room's attention. She has Deeks in a strange position and clearly she wants to share.

Callen stands up, loosening his arms, and they both turn to watch the demonstration.

It takes several seconds for Callen to realize he still has his hands on her. In fact, it isn't until Nell leans back into him that he notices at all. His right hand is on her hip, his left casually draped across her shoulder. It just _feels_ right.

But they both jump when her back touches his chest, and then they're standing a good two feet apart.

Callen doesn't think anyone notices, but Kensi throws an inquiring eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and she drops it, continuing her demonstration.

The rest of the training session goes without much excitement. They switch partners, so Callen doesn't have an opportunity to train anymore with Nell, but the thing-the whatever-that happened between them makes him distracted. The upside is all the other women get a chance to take Callen down, but their triumph doesn't make him feel the same way Nell's did. It's that thought, plus his mind replaying earlier events, that keeps him distracted and, thus, in various positions on the mat throughout the training session.

It's a vicious cycle that, frankly, has Callen quite bewildered by the end of the class. He's still on the ground when the students depart and he sees Deeks's face peering down at him.

"You all right, there, buddy?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You...don't look fine."

Callen arches an eyebrow.

"You're still on the floor."

"I like it here."

Kensi's face enters his field of view, opposite from Deeks. "Is it just me or were you going easy on them?"

"Who, me?"

Kensi and Deeks share a look and, not for the first time, Callen mentally calls bullshit on their not having a "thing."

"You definitely weren't at the top of your game," Kensi observes.

Callen rolls his eyes and sits up. "I like to think of it as fostering an environment of learning. It wouldn't be good for them to be discouraged all the time."

"Since when do you boost agent morale?" Deeks asks.

"They're not agents," Callen points out.

Deeks ponders the point and nods his head in agreement.

Callen turns to Kensi. "Good class, Kens. You've done a good job."

"Thanks," she answers, genuinely appreciative. "And thanks for convincing me to let the men participate. I think it was good for them to learn to fight against each other. I mean, I told Nell a few weeks back that most men aren't comfortable fighting a woman. It's only fair we give the men a chance to experience it."

"Yeah," Callen grunts as he gets himself up off the floor. His knees have never been the same since he passed the mid-30s mark. Not that being thrown out of moving cars has helped, either. Or being tossed about by students in training. "I think we need more padding, though."

* * *

><p>Nell watches Callen, Kensi, and Deeks exit the training room as she's packing up for the night. The class was more interesting than others since they added the men.<p>

But that thing with Callen-what was that? She could have sworn his lips grazed her ear and his voice, barely a whisper, made her react in an entirely unexpected way. True, the whole point of the exercise was for him to hold her, but at one point it seemed a little more personal. Intimate, even.

And then later, Nell isn't sure what had possessed her to actually _lean_ into him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do at the time. Clearly, she hadn't been thinking straight because, in retrospect, it really was the most _insane_ thing to do.

Except she'd be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed it at least a tiny bit.

And he hadn't called her out on her behavior. In fact, she's pretty sure Callen was just as surprised as she was when it happened. So, she watches him for a moment, but Callen never looks her way.

Nell frowns slightly, and then shakes her head to clear her thoughts. "Get a grip, Nell."

Determined not to think of the incident anymore, she gathers her belongings and leaves the compound for the night. Her subconscious, though, has other ideas. The more she tries not to think about Callen, the more he's just _everywhere_.

As she's driving home, she keeps thinking up imaginary conversations she'd have with him. She double takes every time she sees a lone guy walking down the street with his approximate physical characteristics.

Nell groans aloud as she pulls up to her apartment complex. She knows what this is and a feeling of mild dread settles in her stomach.

She's got a thing for Special Agent G. Callen.

This presents a problem. Several, in fact. Like she'd told Eric before, her tendency is to ignore the object of her affection. That was easier to do in school or her previous position when she was on the periphery and could watch, and yearn, from afar.

But here, in OSP, she's one of the main support staff. She can't avoid interacting with the field agents, much less the _lead_ special agent.

Then there's the fact the field agents are training up the support staff because of her. It's only natural for Nell to be of special interest to them. And, of course, since Callen had been the one to see the instigating incident first hand, no doubt he was especially interested in her progress.

All in all, the situation doesn't lend itself to allowing Nell to ignore, and be ignored by, Callen.

She sighs. She doesn't want to deal with this, if only because she's happy at NCIS and doesn't want to risk doing anything to jeopardize her position or make it become unpleasant.

Besides, the few times she'd broken her silence when it came to guys she'd taken an interest to in the past hadn't gone well. She'd had a couple other relationships, albeit very short lived and not serious at all, but those fizzled out quickly.

Nell takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, willing all the anxiety and silliness in her head to go with it.

"I can do this," she murmurs to herself. "I can go back to keeping my feelings completely professional."

Except, of course, that she totally can't.


	2. Chapter 2

Marty Deeks is very rarely ever speechless. Witty responses and wisecracks are his thing. It's part of what makes him such a good undercover cop, the ability to put people at ease quickly.

Marty Deeks is currently speechless. It's a new experience, but he's not really in the mood to explore the feeling.

When Hetty said the field agents would help train the support staff, he'd assumed he wasn't part of that. After all, he's not even an NCIS employee.

"Ye-wha-?"

Hetty raises an eyebrow.

"I haven't completed the NCIS training you want me to take," Marty reasons. "Are you sure I'm qualified?"

"More than qualified, Mr. Deeks," Hetty answers.

"What am I supposed to teach them?"

"What I hired you for, Mr. Deeks."

She walks away, then, and Marty is left wondering exactly what Hetty means. "This afternoon, Mr. Deeks," Hetty's voice calls a few moments later.

"Here's a tip, Deeks," Kensi says as she passes by. "She's not talking about what you consider your charm."

"Hey, I'm charming," he protests.

Kensi just smiles and keeps walking.

"I am!"

But his protestations are half-hearted because he really is at a loss. So, he takes a moment to think.

He's an undercover cop with the LAPD. A _good_ one. What can he offer that isn't covered by NCIS training? Not much, probably, but then the support staff doesn't get the same training as the field agents and he didn't learn to be a good undercover cop by taking a bunch of classes.

Nell and Eric are the only two support staff he really interacts with on any sort of regular basis. After Eric's near frelting and Nell's almost assault, Deeks understands protecting his people. And they are his people. He isn't an NCIS agent, but truth be told, everyone treats him like one. He loves LA and he loves the LAPD. The latter doesn't always love him back, though.

Undercover cops don't have nearly the same interaction with each other that these agents do. He's pretty sure he doesn't know even half the undercover cops in the LAPD and he likes it that way; less chance of accidentally compromising someone's cover.

But this NCIS group is so small and mostly works group operations that they have to know each other and work together and it works pretty well. They're like a family. Sure, they might be slightly dysfunctional at times, but some of the best families are. This family has accepted him, baggage and all.

Marty has to admit he's taken for granted the fact these people live the kind of life he does and don't judge him for it. So, he really shouldn't be surprised when he reacts strongly to someone threatening his family.

He remembers the way he's reacted when Kensi has been in danger and it has nothing to do with the fact she's female. He's the first to admit, if only to himself, that she can take care of herself _and_ him without any assistance at all and hand out ass beatings all without breaking a sweat or messing up a single strand of hair. And also in a killer, backless, high-skirted dress with mile high stiletto heels...

He shakes his head as his thoughts start to derail. "Focus, Marty," he mutters.

Nell, Eric, and the rest of the support staff are there to make their missions safer and easier. He's never had that kind of remote backup before and he can't really imagine going on missions in the future without them. Sure, the toys are cool, but having another set of eyes that can keep an eye on the larger picture has been invaluable in keeping them informed and safe while they focus on their main objective.

Eric almost getting frelted, well, there's not much they really could have done to prevent that situation entirely.

Nell getting jumped? He can help do something about that, if only a little.

Marty can impart to them the knowledge he's picked up on the streets. So, following Hetty's direction, he gathers a small group for his very first training session.

"All right, lady and gents," Marty announces, looking each of his trainees in the eye. Nell is part of this group along with Eric and another guy, John, an accounting clerk. "I'm Marty Deeks and I'm here to teach you about being on the streets."

Eric's hand shoots up.

"Yes, Eric?"

"Are we going to have to carry guns? 'Cause I'm kind of not cool with that."

"Right now it'll be more about observation," Deeks explains. "But don't worry. We have...plans...for your gun shyness."

Eric gulps. "You do?"

"Oh, yeah. Big plans."

Marty makes a mental note to make plans-_big_ plans-for Eric and firearms.

"In any case, today's lesson is about understanding your surroundings and the people in it. We'll be taking a little field trip and go people watch by the Santa Monica Pier."

* * *

><p>As Deeks and the trainees pass by the field agents' desks, Sam and Callen exchange a look. Kensi narrows her eyes in suspicion.<p>

"What are you two up to?" she asks.

Sam and Callen exchange another look.

"Should we let her in on it?" Sam asks.

"Well, she _is_ his partner," Callen responds.

"Could be an advantage."

"Or a disadvantage."

"You always think so negatively."

"I like to think of it as being realistic."

"Ladies!" Kensi calls, snapping her fingers.

Callen finally shrugs and gives Sam the go-ahead.

"We were thinking we should tag along on Deeks's training session. You know, take it up a notch," Sam explains.

Kensi pauses. "You mean mess with him."

Callen grins at her as he secures his workstation. "Like I said. I'm a realist. Let's go add some realism to the situation."

Kensi's torn. On the one hand, Deeks _is_ her partner and while she gives him a lot of grief, it's an entirely different situation when someone _else_ gives him grief. On the other hand, what was a little friendly joking around? Besides, like Callen said, adding a little bit of an unknown wouldn't necessarily be a _bad_ thing, would it?

"Let's go," she says, snatching up her keys and heading out of the compound.

There's a small part of her that acknowledges she's also partly going along to make sure Sam and G don't take it too far. After all, Deeks is _her_ partner. She's supposed to watch his back.

* * *

><p>Deeks, Nell decides, is a pretty good teacher. Sure, he's a little goofy sometimes and uses humor and sarcasm a lot, but it works for him.<p>

He talks about situational awareness and how to handle yourself in a crowd. He points out various individuals on the pier, categorizing them and explaining his rationale.

"People always categorize and label, it's what we do," Deeks says. "But sometimes you have to go a little further. If a bad situation comes up, some people and things become targets, others obstacles. Either way, it's a bad thing. While it's a nice thing to want to help those in need, first and foremost you want to make sure you're safe."

Deeks teaches them about the most common street crime they're likely to encounter: pick pocketing. He snags Eric's wallet three times before Eric figures out what to do.

"And, if you're ever in a situation where you think someone is following you," Deeks instructs, "try your damnedest not to get boxed in. Don't go into any buildings you don't know, keep yourself in the open where others can see you. Crowds can be a double-edged sword. They can hide those who might want to do you harm, but they can also turn on those people and help you out."

"So, what do you do if you're alone? In the dark?" Nell asks. "Like me?"

Deeks regards her evenly, all humor and joking aside.

"Unfortunately, sometimes shit happens," Deeks admits. "You can prepare all you want, but there are too many unknowns to account for everything. Your situation was one of those. Maybe you could have made different choices that night, but ultimately, those guys were looking for a target and found one in you."

"I still feel dumb for doing it," Nell mutters.

"Look," Deeks says, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We're here to teach you, all of you guys, what to do with the choices you make if they turn into situations you need to be out of. Let's just focus on that, okay?"

Nell nods.

And then a shadow falls across her and she looks up-and up-at the two largest Marines she's ever seen. They're in field dress.

"You okay, ma'am?" one of them asks.

"Um...what?"

The other Marine gestures at their group with his chin and Nell takes a moment to really notice what they look like. She's one woman in a small circle of men. They all know each other, so they're standing just a tad closer than strangers would, and Deeks's hand is on her shoulder. To an outsider, she can understand that it looks like she's being confronted by them.

"Oh...oh!" Nell says, raising her hands as if to ward off confusion. "This isn't...these guys are my co-workers. I know them, really!"

To emphasize the point, she grabs Deeks and Eric on either side of her, hugging them sideways. John waves meekly, clearly wishing he could hide somewhere.

The two Marines aren't really buying it. Deeks casually stretches his free arm behind his head, revealing the LAPD badge he has clipped to his jeans pocket. Finally, the Marines visibly relax.

The first Marine gives Deeks a nod. "That explains it. Have a good day guys, ma'am."

Eric frowns in confusion. "What did that mean?"

Deeks smirks slightly. "Military knows military. Law enforcement knows law enforcement. Doesn't matter if we're wearing the uniform or the badge. They knew I wasn't military, but I was something. You just sort of...know."

"You could have told them," John said.

"It's all about presence," Deeks explains. "Just saying it doesn't get you the respect that should go with it. You gotta _be_ it."

"You handled that way better than I would have," Eric breathes. "Those guys were huge!"

"Oh, trust me," Deeks confides. "Inside, I was screaming like a little girl."

* * *

><p>Around the corner, Sam, Callen, and Kensi watch the situation unfold.<p>

"I gotta admit, he handled that well," Sam says.

"He's lucky Nell's not exactly shy," Callen retorts. "She totally saved their asses."

Kensi snorts, but really she's a little proud of Deeks.

"Wait, what's he doing?" Callen asks.

"Is he playing...hide and seek with them?" Sam scoffs.

The pride is replaced by annoyance. Kensi peeks around the corner and, sure enough, it looks like Deeks is hiding his eyes and counting like a little kid would in a game of hide and seek.

Nell, Eric, and John have all gone off in different directions. After a few moments, Deeks opens his eyes and scans the area.

"Oh, my god," Kensi sighs. "Now he's playing 'eeny, meeny, miny, mo'."

Sam and Callen shake their heads incredulously.

"Heads up," Sam says when Deeks starts moving. "Looks like he's going to tail Eric. He must have told them to split up and he'd try to follow one of them."

Sam and Callen share another look, but this time Callen frowns slightly.

"Well, we can't _all_ follow Deeks. He'd spot us a mile away," Callen remarks.

"True," Sam acknowledges.

"I'll follow one of the other two," Callen says, and then he's off.

Kensi isn't completely surprised when she realizes he's picked Nell as his target.

"Be nice," she warns Sam as she heads off in search of John. She can almost feel Sam's mischievous grin behind her.

It takes her just a few moments to find John. It looks like he's gotten himself distracted by shiny objects. Literally. He's at a kiosk that sells tiny mirrors and Kensi has to occupy herself for several minutes before he moves on.

John was, actually, quite terrible at figuring out if he was being tailed. Sure, he checks out his surroundings periodically, but he's totally missed her at least four times, two of which she deliberately left herself exposed.

Finally, Kensi can't take it anymore and she taps John on the shoulder while he's looking at sunglasses.

"Agent Blye, I didn't expect to see you here!" John exclaims.

Kensi just manages not to roll her eyes. "John, you totally missed me following you for the past 10 minutes."

"You...you were following me? But I thought..."

John looks around quickly as if other people would pop out of the crowd.

"Deeks is supposed to be training us," John mumbles.

Now she feels bad and Kensi takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "He is, but we're all here to help you. If you're being followed, they're not going to give you a heads up that they're following you. The point is you won't know who it is."

"I...I guess you're right," John sighs.

"Did he give you a rendezvous point?" she asks.

He nods and tells her where it is.

"Good, go there and wait."

"What do I do? He gave us an hour."

"People watch. Look for patterns. Observe."

"Thanks, Agent Blye. Sorry I'm so bad at this."

"It's okay, John," she assures him. "That's why we're doing this."

She thinks about where Eric may have gone and sets off in the most likely direction. It's been twenty minutes, but knowing Deeks gave them an hour and a meeting point, she's pretty sure Eric won't stray so far he wouldn't make it back in time.

* * *

><p>Callen's pretty sure Nell knows she's being followed. He's had to make some subtle dives into stores and behind things to make sure she-or anyone else, for that matter-doesn't catch on.<p>

It isn't until she starts checking over her shoulder a little more often that Callen starts to think this exercise might not be such a good idea.

He knows she's expecting Deeks and since she can't find him, Callen wonders if she's thinking someone else is following her but she doesn't know who it is.

This goes on for several minutes and Callen can tell, visibly, that Nell is uncomfortable. Just when he's about to give himself up, she ducks into an alley he knows has no exit. He frowns. Nell knows better than this, so what's going on?

Curiosity, and concern, gets the better of him and he casually strolls into the alley.

And barely gets out of the way when Nell swings a 2x4 at his head. She's off balance since she doesn't expect to miss him and he catches her around the waist before she can fall.

"_Callen_?"

"Hi."

Nell drops the piece of lumber and then hits his chest with her hand.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

She hits him again and he backs up. Callen is completely at a loss on how to deal with this situation.

"I knew it was possible Deeks was following me, but I looked, I _really_ looked, and I couldn't find him," Nell continues to babble.

She has him backed up against one of the alley walls but she just keeps talking and swatting at him.

"And then, I thought, what if it wasn't Deeks? What if it was someone else? What if it was those guys from that night?"

Ah. And now Callen knows it was a bad idea to keep following her. Her freaking out is starting to freak _him_ out.

"Nell," he tries to interject, but she just talks past him.

"_Nell_."

No use. She's coming up with all the possible scenarios her imagination can think up.

Finally, Callen grabs her hands, which makes her stop talking, but he can feel her shaking. So he pulls her to him and wraps his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into her hair. "You almost spotted me a couple times. I shouldn't have drawn it out like this."

He can feel her start to relax, her heartbeat slowing to a more normal rate.

"No," Nell finally says, speaking to his chest. "That's what this training is all about. I should be able to handle this, not...freak out. It's not like I get to choose when someone's going to follow me or target me or...whatever."

Callen looks down at her and Nell's looking up at him, eyes wide. There's an innocence about her and she just looks so _young_. It takes a moment before Callen remembers that she really is. She's at least a decade younger than him and he's never noticed, or cared, until now.

Slowly, he lets go of her and steps aside. He pretends he doesn't see the look of confusion on her face. Luckily, Callen doesn't have to deal with any awkward questions because his phone rings.

"What's up, Sam?"

His partner describes his situation in a few words and a small smile tugs at his lips.

"I think that's a great idea. See you later."

Nell's now looking at him curiously.

"How would you like to be the follower instead of the target?" he asks.

Nell's lips quirk and Callen starts to feel better.

"What's going on?"

"Deeks spotted Sam, so he's out. But he thinks it's still a great opportunity to tail Deeks. He won't be expecting it."

Nell's eyes widen in realization. "You all are out here to mess with Deeks?"

He smiles apologetically at her. "We've been following all of you since you split up. We figured we'd follow the rest of you since Deeks could only follow one of you."

Nell just nods and isn't quite looking at him, clearly uncomfortable now that the earlier situation has passed.

"Anyway," Callen says, gesturing at the alley entrance. "They're not far. Why don't you take the lead?"

* * *

><p>Marty Deeks can't stop grinning.<p>

When he spotted Sam, at first he was a little upset, but now he can't stop smiling.

Because Kensi, his _partner_, had been looking out for him.

He was also a little mad at himself for not realizing Sam had been following him, but he doesn't think too hard about it. After all, Sam had been trained by the best of the best and was one of the most elite of the military.

Marty had been tailing Eric for a good half hour when little things started happening. It seemed as if everyone kept pointing at him and his efforts to stay hidden would be blown by completely random people. There were a couple times when Eric almost spotted him, but Deeks knew these streets better than anyone.

And then Kensi had texted him and it was just one word that changed everything.

"_Coffee_?"

Marty had paused, frowning at the text. He'd wondered if maybe she'd mistexted to him but then he realized he was about to walk past a bistro. The outdoor seating was full and the largest table was occupied by a group of gabbing teen girls.

Why had Kensi texted him about coffee?

And that's when he spotted it. Or, rather, him. Sam. In the bistro, looking for all the world like he belonged there even though he looked nothing like any of the wait staff. He was also clearly about to instigate a situation that would spook the girls and make them spill out onto the sidewalk right in his path, no doubt causing more of a ruckus and giving his position away to Eric for sure.

Sam had tried to play it off.

"Oh, hey, Deeks. Fancy meeting you here. Coffee?"

He'd just narrowed his eyes and Sam at least had the courtesy to look at least a little bit sheepish. Marty passed by the bistro without incident and he hasn't been able to stop grinning since.

He'd have to get Kensi some coffee sometime. Maybe all week. Yeah.

Marty's smile falters slightly as he realizes the consequences of his delay. First, he has to find Eric again.

* * *

><p>Nell tries not to think about how much of a fool she just made of herself back in the alley. She has, of course, other things to think about, like following Deeks and making sure she's not seen or noticed.<p>

But her brain has other ideas, as it was wont to do these days.

She can't help thinking how nice it was being in Callen's arms and how _safe_ she felt. And then looking up at him, they'd been so close, she could almost feel his breath and for a moment...

But the moment passed and whatever might have happened clearly wasn't in Callen's mind since he'd pulled away so quickly.

Nell sighs softly and stops at a street vendor, pretending to browse her wares. Ahead of them, Deeks has also stopped. She keeps an eye on him in her peripheral vision.

"Can I help you?" the saleswoman asks.

"Oh, I'm just browsing," Nell answers.

The saleswoman doesn't miss Nell's eyes as they keep going back to one particular piece of jewelry.

"This seems to have caught your eye," the other woman says, bringing it forward.

It's a pair of ear cuffs with a simple, delicate design. Each one is made with thin silver that wraps elegantly around in a couple loops before twisting and holding two small cubic zirconium. The saleswoman holds them up and the sunlight catches the small stones, sparkling magnificently.

"These would look good on you," she says. "Your ears are pierced, but the ends can rest over the piercing holes. And, since your hair is short, when it moves aside, it'll catch the light."

And then she looks meaningfully _behind_ Nell. It takes a moment before Nell realizes the saleswoman is looking at Callen. Clearly, she believes they're together. She feels heat in her cheeks, but before she can say anything, he speaks.

"We'll take them."

Nell's too stunned to do anything and watches in awe as Callen hands over some cash. As they resume their walk down the street-Deeks had moved on a few moments before-Nell finally finds her voice. "You didn't have to do that," she says, voice low. "Hetty won't reimburse you."

Callen shrugs, bouncing the small box between his hands. "She's right. They would look good on you."

She turns and gives him a questioning look but she doesn't have a chance to say anything more because suddenly Callen is pushing her into a doorway alcove of a closed business.

"Wha-?"

"You should try them on. Now would be good."

Nell pauses. "He turned around?"

Callen nods, but doesn't stick his head out of the spot to confirm.

Nell looks down when she feels Callen's hands on hers and he has the little box open. So, she does what he suggested and affixes the ear cuffs to her ears.

"Well? How do they look?" she asks, turning her head to one side.

"Nice," Callen answers. "But they're a little crooked. Here..."

And then she stops breathing because she doesn't expect to feel his fingers on her ears. Callen's touch is light, yet firm, and his work is quick. This she remembers from the night he patched her up after the attack. Nell looks up at him when he touches her chin to look the other way and although she's suppressing a physical shudder from his unexpected touches, she feels a deep disappointment.

Because Nell realizes, like she did that night so many weeks ago, that this is another job, another part that Callen is playing.

But even this realization does nothing to quell her own feelings that, despite the odds, keep growing. And this situation certainly doesn't help. She's sure she'll replay it in her mind endlessly later.

"There," Callen declares. "That looks better."

"I'll have to take your word for it," she murmurs and looks up at him.

That small movement proves to be her undoing. She didn't realize his hand was still next to her ear and his thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of her neck that sends a shiver right down her spine. Nell can't help but gasp slightly and then she blushes because she knows he couldn't have missed that.

And then Callen freezes and Nell's sure, now, that he knows-he _knows_-she's got a thing for him.

He's staring right at her, his expression slightly surprised.

Nell waits for the letdown.

Callen's mouth opens to speak.

"Ah ha!" Deeks's voice calls out.

The sound is so loud and unexpected Nell can't help but jump a little and Callen, also taken unawares, immediately steps in front of her.

"Deeks," he says, voice very casual. "What are you doing here?"

"Me? What about you guys," Deeks counters. "I saw Sam earlier-you guys are following me, aren't you?"

Nell's sure Callen's going to come up with some sort of excuse, but the day seems to be the day of surprises.

"What gave us away?"

Deeks shrugs. "I knew if I looked hard enough I'd find you. So why are you following me, exactly?"

It's Callen's turn to shrug. "Training, Deeks. Sam called me after you made him and we thought it'd be a good opportunity to let Nell try her hand at following someone."

"Uh huh," Deeks responds, clearly not buying it as he eyes Nell. "Hey, are you blushing?"

"Me?" Nell practically squeaks. "It's the sun. You know, redheads, fair skin, sunlight?"

And, to her utter astonishment, _both_ men seem to buy it, which makes her wonder if Callen noticed what happened earlier.

"You should wear a hat," Deeks recommends.

"Yeah...I'll remember that next time."

"How'd it go with Eric?" Callen asks.

"Never spotted me," Deeks answers. "In fact, it's almost time to meet at the rendezvous point."

Deeks gives Nell a pointed look.

"She figured me out," Callen admits.

Deeks smiles broadly. "Obviously, due to my training."

"Right," Callen says. "You keep telling yourself that."

He turns to give them both a look. "I'll see you two back at the office."

Nell watches him go, her emotions a mix of hope and dread. What the hell just happened?


	3. Chapter 3

It's another couple weeks before training resumes as another case occupies the field agents' time. They spend most of their time either on the streets or at the boathouse.

Nell spends most of her time researching and sorting through all the data the agents bring back and everything she and Eric find in relation to the case. It's more data intensive than they normally have and Nell is completely buried in it, trying to find the connections.

Her interactions with Callen, which are few, are strictly professional and she's actually so busy and focused on her task that her imagination doesn't have time to mess with her brain. It's kind of refreshing and Nell is enjoying her life going back to normal.

It doesn't last long.

The case wraps up and as they're tying up loose ends, Callen stops by. "You did a good job on this case, Nell," he says. "It couldn't have been easy, going through all that data."

She shrugs, smiling at him. "It's kind of what I do."

"Don't sell yourself short. You guys may not go into the field with us very often, but you and Eric are an integral part of the team. Don't forget that."

And then Callen puts his hand on her shoulder and the moment seems to last forever. Just when it seems like the pause between them is getting awkward, he smiles at her and then leaves.

Suffice it to say, Nell's distracted for the rest of the day.

One touch. One smile. That's all it takes for her brain to turn to mush. She's annoyed with herself because it isn't like those actions were particularly special. Nell's pretty sure her mind is exaggerating the length of time Callen's hand was on her shoulder and the suggestive curve to his mouth when he smiled. She knows this because her recollection of his actions changes every time she thinks about it. But she can't stop it and half the time, she actually admits to herself she doesn't want to stop thinking about it.

The doors to Ops hiss open and Nell looks up to find Sam entering the room.

"Hey, got a minute?" he asks.

"Um, sure?" Nell's fingers pause above the keyboard of her laptop.

"Now that the case is over, Hetty wants us to resume our support staff training," Sam explains. "If you have some time tomorrow, I was thinking we could meet up in the gym."

"Oh, okay. What will we be working on?"

"That's up to you," Sam replies, leaning on the center table. "What do you want to learn?"

Nell puts her hands in her lap and thinks for a moment. Her mind keeps going back to that night and how she felt so helpless when it came to dealing with even just one of her assailants.

"Well, I think more hand-to-hand stuff would be good," she says.

Sam nods. "Sounds good. See you tomorrow, then."

When tomorrow comes, Nell finds she's a little bit nervous. She hasn't had much interaction with Sam, but he's always seemed like a nice enough kind of guy. Admittedly, she was initially very intimidated by him. He's huge, compared to her, and he was a SEAL, the best of the best, the most elite of the fighting forces.

So, she was surprised when, on any occasion where she did have to interact with him, he was friendly and, well, gentle.

They'd arranged to meet in the gym that afternoon, but when she shows up she's the only one there aside from Sam.

"Is...anyone else coming?" she asks.

"Nope, just us," Sam says. "Is that okay?"

"Um, sure... We've only done group training before, but this should be fine."

Sam nods, then sees something over Nell's shoulder.

"Excuse me," he says, and hurries past her to catch someone passing by.

Nell can hear a conversation happening, but not what's actually being said. A short while later, she's surprised to see Kensi accompany Sam back into the room.

"Kensi'll be helping out," Sam says.

"Hey," Kensi greets.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that just for me," Nell says, feeling a little silly for having made a comment about the training arrangements.

"It'll be good to have a third party observing," Sam reasons. "And she can offer some insights that I might not think of."

"Um, okay."

"C'mon," Sam says with a friendly smile, clearly trying to put her at ease. "Let's get started."

* * *

><p>Callen's about to head home for the night when he notices he's not the only one left. Nell is still here-he can see her bag next to her main floor station. He takes a walk around the facility and is surprised to find her in the training room, staring at the rock climbing wall.<p>

"Race you to the top?" he calls from the doorway.

Nell spins around, surprise on her features.

"What? Oh, no, I was just thinking about something else," she explains, turning back to the wall.

Callen saunters into the room, curious. "About?"

"Close quarters combat."

"Really?" he asks, surprised.

"I had some trouble with Sam, earlier. Kensi had some tips and I even thought of the earlier training we had in her class when I was able to take you down, but it seems like if you're pitted against a much bigger opponent, it's almost impossible to extricate yourself from the situation."

Callen nods. "That's true, but a determined defender is just as powerful as a determined offender. If, of course, you know what to do."

Nell regards him for a moment. "Show me."

"Okay," Callen says, hands on his hips.

He turns her around so he's behind her.

"Say your opponent grabs you from behind."

Callen follows his words with actions, wrapping his arms around her. She's so slight he can get his arms all the way around her without much effort. Nell immediately tenses and pulls forward, trying to get away. Callen holds on, shuffling his feet to maintain balance.

"Your first instinct is flight," he says. "Stop moving."

Nell stops.

"You do have an advantage with your height," Callen continues. "It'll be difficult for a bigger and taller opponent to maintain a hold on you without getting off balance."

"So, what do I do?"

"Well, there are a number of options, some of which you've gone through already in Kensi's training, but the easiest: relax, lean back, and drop."

"Really."

"Yep. It's the opposite of—"

Callen doesn't have a chance to complete his thought because Nell does exactly what he told her to do. Suddenly, his hold on her has changed as she stops fighting him. She's about to slip out of his grasp when _his_ training kicks in and he reacts, shifting his hold on her, looping an arm under one of hers.

"Shit," he mutters when he realizes what he's doing.

And then they're both falling. At the last moment he twists to avoid crushing her into the ground and the breath whooshes out of him as they hit the floor, Nell's elbow digging into his solar plexus.

"Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen," Callen says after a moment.

"What exactly did happen?" she asks, voice slightly breathless.

Callen looks down, then, and for a moment he says nothing. Nell's sprawled atop him, her short hair askew, her face mere inches from his. He gets caught in her gaze for a long moment and before he realizes it, his hand reaches for her and touches her cheek. Nell's eyes widen in surprise.

"I knew your moves," he says suddenly, sitting up and moving his hand to her shoulder.

Callen stands, helping Nell to her feet.

"Since I knew what to expect," he continues, "I could compensate and try to prevent you from escaping."

Nell is quiet for a long moment before she speaks. "So...what can I do?"

Callen taps his lips with a finger as he thinks on the subject.

"To be honest, Sam's better at the whole philosophy of fighting thing," he starts. "But, basically, don't be afraid to be fast and violent. You're fighting. It's not meant to be nice."

"Kensi said that. But, how...I mean, when..." Nell's voice trails off. "I don't know if I can do that."

Callen approaches her and puts his hands on her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes.

"It's...never easy. It should never be easy," he says, voice low. "Me, Sam, Kensi, and Deeks...this kind of life is the choice we made when we decided to go into law enforcement. Sam, especially, was trained to kill in many different ways and very efficiently, but it's never his first choice if he can help it."

"But you don't hesitate."

Callen steps away, shaking his head. "We can't. It's usually a kill or be killed kind of situation. And, I think, if you're ever in that kind of a situation-and I sincerely hope you never are-I think you'll be able to make the right choice."

"To kill or be killed?"

"Maybe," Callen admits. "But it's probably more likely that whomever is after you wants you for what's in your head. So if someone is coming after you and your choices are to be captured or to incapacitate them so you can get away, hopefully we can help you learn enough skills such that the latter is a feasible choice for you to make."

Nell nods. "I understand your words. And, while I hope I never have to, maybe one day I'll really understand the situation."

Callen smiles. "Exactly. You can never really be prepared for a situation like that, but if you're ever there, hopefully you won't be completely unprepared."

"So, can we try that breaking out of a hold thing again?"

Callen's smile turns into a grin and they continue their impromptu training session. Nell's able to use a number of techniques to get out of Callen's grasp, but there are a few legitimate situations where she can't.

"In these cases," Callen says. "Just remember: at some point, they have to let go."

"So, I just wait?"

"Probably the single most difficult thing to get right in combat is timing," Callen explains. "If you miss the right moment, sometimes that's the end. Other times, missing the right moment means any additional ones will just be that much more difficult. And, sometimes, the best course of action is to wait. That one's probably the hardest of all."

Nell nods. "I guess that makes sense. I mean, you don't want to make any rash decisions, but the longer you're in a bad situation, the worse it makes you feel."

"Exactly," Callen agrees. "Anyway, it's getting late so we should go."

"Thanks for the help," she says as they gather their things and lock down the compound for the night.

"My pleasure," Callen says. "Need a lift?"

Nell shakes her head. "Nah, I drove. You?"

"Same."

"Well," she says. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Be safe driving home," he calls to her as she waves and walks out the door.

A moment later, Callen's in his car and he watches as Nell departs the vicinity. Before he realizes what he's doing, he's turning in the opposite direction of his place and is accidentally following Nell home.

They're about half a mile away from her apartment complex when Callen receives a text.

"_Stop following me. :P_"

Callen chuckles and turns at the next opportunity. He's still grinning when he pulls up in front of his house.


	4. Chapter 4

Nell is, quite frankly, extremely frustrated. And it's her own fault. She has literally been staring at her laptop for the last three minutes doing absolutely nothing with the information on the screen.

She can't stop thinking about what happened in the training room the night before. She also knows it's futile to keep up the absurd line of thoughts in her mind because it's pretty clear Callen doesn't think of her as anything but a co-worker. _Maybe_ a little bit of a friend, but definitely nothing more.

Last night, it was amazing to have private tutelage from him and, while her fantasies might have been filled with completely inappropriate thoughts and embarrassingly modified replays, once again Nell's practical side eventually broke through the barriers and clued her into reality: Callen wasn't interested.

To be fair, it isn't easy figuring out what Callen is thinking, much less his intentions. What _is_ clear is that he's still playing the part of teacher and colleague and seems content to keep it that way. Nell is almost positive she saw a moment, when she was lying on top of him, when there may have been something else there. But then there wasn't.

By the end of the day, which ends up being one of her least productive, Nell's convinced herself she should leave things be and go back to treating Callen as nothing more than a colleague.

Callen, of course, makes that almost impossible for her to do.

* * *

><p>There's something about Nell that intrigues him. Callen has known this for a while, but it isn't until he's spending an appreciable time with her that he really starts to take notice.<p>

He knows she's smart-NCIS wouldn't have hired her otherwise, much less placed her in Special Programs-but there's just something else Callen can't quite figure out and it bothers him.

He knows she's not like the other agents, she's just not trained that way. But even among the support staff, she's just different.

Nell Jones piques his interest and this presents a problem for Callen because getting involved with her in any way is just not a smart idea.

But Callen knows he's never been one to take the road well-traveled. Some say he goes out of his way to take the most difficult path possible.

So, it's hardly a surprise when he realizes he's been thinking more and more about a certain, red-headed NCIS support staff member. And, if he really thinks about it, he's pretty sure he's caught her staring at him or otherwise shown a little bit of interest in him. Plus, there was that incident in the alley when they were following Deeks and the training session a few nights ago.

But, again, it's just not a smart idea. What had Gibbs said? Rule number 12?

Plus, he'd gone down this path before, with Tracy, and while it may have been part of the mission for her, it hadn't been _just_ part of the mission for him.

There are so many reasons why he should just dismiss the thought outright:

1. The circumstance that resulted in them spending more time together was fueled by danger and adrenaline. Weird things happen in those situations. Sure, bonds form, and he'd be lying if he didn't admit he's now more interested in the goings on of one Nell Jones, but Callen also knows that many things don't survive for much longer after the incident.

2. Callen's never really cared about age differences before, but in this case, he thinks maybe he'd be just a little too old for Nell. They come from completely different backgrounds. She grew up in the digital age and, while he's no Luddite, she certainly has a much firmer grasp of the technology, and the culture, than he does. It's embedded as part of her life where as for him, it augments it.

3. And, of course, there's rule number 12: never date a co-worker. Ever since Tracy-hell, even _before_ Tracy-Callen had been very careful on this point. The demands of the job, the need to keep his cover, those were all very compelling reasons not to get involved with, well, anyone, really.

He's broken rule number 12 twice. Once, really, but he counts Kristin Donnelly as a second since he met her while on the job and, despite everything he knew, he did it anyway.

But there's one major difference between this situation and the ones with Kristin and Tracy. Nell has only really known Callen when he's not being someone else. Sure, she's seen him slip into a persona for the job, but she's there when he transitions into and out of it.

That, more than anything, stops Callen short. Nell knows him probably as well as he does. Callen's spent so much time playing roles, he's not even sure which pieces of him are still his.

With Tracy, he got close to the real thing, but she ultimately had a career she wanted to pursue and left him for it. Kristin never had a chance. He could have told her he wasn't Jason, but since their relationship had been founded on a lie, it wouldn't have improved matters. Both of the situations, though, had a secondary objective. There was always a job.

Nell, on the other hand, isn't an assignment. She isn't an objective or a stepping stone to another successful case. In this situation, she's just a woman and he's just a man and, frankly, the idea is unsettling. He isn't sure he can improvise when there isn't a mission objective and it's alarming that he even thinks of the situation like a case.

Callen sighs and taps a pen on his desk. Clearly, he needs to stop this line of thinking and continue on in a professional manner.

Except he can't quite suppress one possibility that bounces around his brain: _the third time's a charm_.

* * *

><p>Marty is contemplating the evidence in their latest case (involving clowns, balloons, and body cavities) when his thoughts are disrupted by Nell coming down from Ops and going to her workbench. He stops tapping his pen on his folder and frowns. Something is not quite right, but he can't put his finger on it.<p>

"Is it just me or is there something up with Nell?" Kensi asks, voice quiet and not looking up from her monitor.

"I was just thinking the same thing," he replied, turning back to the folder on his desk.

Marty opens his mouth to speak, pauses, then closes his mouth with a small sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Kensi levels him with a look.

"It's just...I don't know. There was this...thing...that happened the other day when we were out."

"A 'thing'?"

"Yeah. At least I think it was."

Kensi tilts her head to the side and Marty is sure she's going to scoff.

"I think I know what you mean."

He's a little stunned. "You do?"

She flashes him one of her smiles and Marty can't help but think for the millionth time how gorgeous Kensi is.

"Yes, Deeks. For once, I don't think you're nuts. Well, not completely."

He lets the comment slide. "So, how do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Remember the self-defense demonstration we did a few weeks back?"

Marty nods and rubs his shoulder. He swears it's still a little sore.

"Just before I had them switch partners, I stopped everyone to show them the hold I had you in."

He winces at the memory.

"Well, I think Callen had Nell in a hold and he didn't really let go when I called for attention."

"Huh," he remarks. "And you saw this?"

"Not exactly," she admits. "But a moment later, they practically jumped apart and I definitely saw that."

"Like two kids getting caught fooling around," he murmurs.

"So?" Kensi prods.

"So what?"

She rolls her eyes. "What was the thing you thought you saw?"

"Similar," he starts. "After Callen tailed Nell, the two of them started following me. I hate to admit it, but they did a really good job. It took me a while to notice them and I _knew_ something was going on."

"You did?"

Marty nods. "I wasn't sure what, but after you gave up Sam-thanks, by the way, you didn't have to do that-I figured Callen wasn't far. And, since Nell was in my group that day, I figured it was even more likely."

"You're welcome," Kensi replies, voice soft.

Marty looks her in the eye, surprised. She's looking right at him, but he can't read her expression.

"He's been doing that more often, hasn't he?"

Marty blinks. "What?"

"Callen. Showing up at Nell's training sessions."

"Oh. Right. Yeah. He hasn't shown up to any of my other training sessions."

"Same".

"Huh," he muses. "Anyway. When I realized I was being followed, I doubled back and that's when I spotted them. So, I confronted them."

"And?"

Marty sighs. "This is what I'm not sure about. Callen had pushed Nell into the nearest hiding spot, which happened to be a narrow, shallow doorway. There aren't many situations for a man and a woman to be holing up in one."

Kensi's expression lights up in understanding.

"Yep. He had her caged in and was leaning in close to her when I called out to them."

"Then what?"

He shrugs. "Then nothing. I made some comment about them following me, Callen said it was training, blah, blah, blah..."

"And that's it?"

He nods. "Oh, it did look like Nell was blushing, but she blamed it on the sun and being fair skinned."

"How did Callen react?"

"He didn't. That's why I'm not sure if anything really happened."

Kensi's quiet for a moment. "Well, he _is_ pretty much the best undercover agent we have. He's especially good at improvisation."

"True, but..."

His words fade and their attention shifts as Callen descends the stairs and heads to Nell's station, documents in hand.

Marty and Kensi watch Callen and Nell interact. They're hyper aware of body language, position, expression, or anything that might indicate there was something personal going on between them. The exchange is short and bewildering.

Callen and Nell are standing close, but the workspace isn't really that large. At one point, Nell leans to the side to reach for something and Callen's eyes follow her, a slight frown on his lips. But it's business as usual when she reveals a piece of paper and both Kensi and Marty sigh in frustration. They continue to watch as Callen apparently thanks her, she smiles up at him-but not too much-and Callen leaves, walking back up to Ops. Nell doesn't watch him, just goes back to work on her laptop.

Marty and Kensi sit back in their chairs, neither saying anything. Then, after some unspoken moment, they turn to each other and speak in unison.

"Nah."


	5. Chapter 5

The next time Nell has training, she's apprehensive and distracted. This time, Callen will be teaching her tactical firearms techniques. Alone.

Throughout the day, she gives herself mini lectures.

_You've already decided that he's just another co-worker. Nothing more._

Except she can't help thinking something more is going on every time they interact.

_There's nothing to be nervous about, it's just training._

And she'll be alone with him. Completely.

_He hasn't shown any interest before, it's not like he's going to magically start now._

All of her thoughts are completely rational and logical but it doesn't help and when it's time to meet with him, she's pretty much a hot mess of nervous energy.

"Ready?" he asks when he strolls into the firing range.

"Uh, yeah. Yup," she answers, trying not to wring her hands or look at him or do much of anything.

"You okay?" Callen asks and this time Nell has to look at him.

His expression is calm and clear. There's nothing up for interpretation in his eyes. Nell's resolve comes back and she takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"It's been a long day," she says.

"We can reschedule for another time..."

"No, no," Nell answers. "It's fine."

Callen nods and launches into an explanation of what they'll be going over. Nell's completely absorbed and it's like a huge weight has lifted off of her when she realizes they've fallen back into the pattern they had before. It's comfortable and she knows how to handle it.

Callen shows her some techniques and gives her some pointers. She's had firearms training before, but it was all technical. At one point, they go through the use of a couple different types of handguns and Callen helps her out with using a weapon that is clearly too big for her hands. After all, sometimes there isn't a choice.

And that's when things start to get a little weird.

Nell can feel Callen right behind her. Occasionally, he'll adjust her stance, usually verbally, sometimes with hand gestures, and very rarely actually touching her. She swears she sees him move to touch her more often than he actually does, though, but every time she sneaks a look at him, his eyes are on the target.

It's starting to drive her nuts.

* * *

><p>Callen has a problem. It's getting worse by the moment. He can't, for the life of him, stop trying to touch Nell. It's highly inappropriate and he's fully aware it is, but he can't stop.<p>

He's almost to the point where he'll have to sit down on his hands or else he's liable to wrap his arms around her to show her what he wants her to do.

And this is what has him conflicted because there is actually a legitimate reason for him to touch her.

So he does.

"Here," he says. "It'll be easier if I just..."

Callen doesn't have the words, so he follows up with actions instead.

"I'm going to adjust your hold," he explains as he stands behind Nell and brings his arms around hers.

She goes still in his arms and he tries very, very hard to ignore it. He knows this is an awkward situation and he's on the verge of crossing a line with her that he'd vowed not to cross.

So, Callen's slightly surprised and a tiny bit disappointed when she continues not to react. A small part of him had hoped maybe she would say or do something, like she has in the past, but she's oddly quiet and unresponsive.

"Like this," he says, guiding her fingers to the correct grip. "You'll have better stability."

And then he just stays there, on purpose this time, and when she fires a round, the kickback presses her into him and they _both_ react. There's a power that flows from the weapon and through them and, for a moment, it binds them together. They're standing flush against each other, Callen virtually curled around Nell, and neither are moving.

Callen is hyper aware of everywhere their bodies meet and he can feel her heartbeat thudding in rhythm with his.

It's surreal. It's amazing. It's arousing.

Slowly, Callen disengages himself from her, taking the firearm from her hands in the process. He's deliberately not looking at her and it's mostly because he's not entirely sure why he let the situation escalate to where they are now.

Callen clears his throat. "So..."

"Yeah."

He looks at her, then, and he absolutely cannot read the expression in her eyes.

"Maybe we should continue this another time," he suggests. "I'll pack up."

Nell nods and practically flees the room.

Callen watches her go. Carefully and methodically, he starts the process of returning the gear and weapons to their rightful place. Midway through, he suddenly stops and slaps his hand on the workbench.

"What the hell am I doing?" he mutters.

What had just happened between him and Nell? More importantly, what did he _want_ to have happen?

Callen honestly doesn't know and that frustrates him more than anything else. He's lived his entire life making decisions, usually bad, that have led him to where he is now. He's the lead special agent in their unit. But this? This is something completely different and for once, he doesn't know what to do.

The tension between Callen and Nell doesn't dissipate the next day. In fact, it grows stronger. When they see each other, there's a slight pause before Callen throws a causal "Hey" her way. She nods in return before heading up to Ops.

Callen watches her for a moment before heading back to his desk, still confused over the previous night's events. However, he does know that if this awkwardness between them doesn't resolve itself soon, it'll probably start affecting their work.

The day is filled with paperwork catch up, though, so Callen's subconscious has plenty of time to ruminate on the subject. Unfortunately, he's no closer to a resolution at the end of the day than he was at the beginning.

The same could be said about the paperwork. Callen's pretty sure his "In" pile has grown, despite the fact that he's sent a ridiculous amount of backlogged case paperwork to the "Out" box.

He's so caught up in it he doesn't notice the hours tick by until he looks up and notices the bullpen is empty and the sun no longer casts shadows through the windows. Callen can't even remember when Sam left.

His attention shifts, though, when Nell quietly comes down the stairs and heads for the kitchen area. He watches her, sure she'll turn his way, and is disappointed when she doesn't.

She's pouring water into the kettle and he calls out before he realizes what he's doing, "Make enough for two?"

Nell looks over her shoulder, her features neutral, and nods once before turning back.

Callen frowns. He puts his pen down and wanders over to her. He means to have a normal conversation with her, one that doesn't involve a case or training or _touching_ that could be misinterpreted. He's positive that's the source of this awkwardness between them.

He means to maintain a professional relationship with her, like he knows he should. But he's never been known for following the rules.

Callen puts a hand on Nell's shoulder, his frown deepening when she flinches. His mouth opens to form words, but when she turns around and her eyes meet his, the words die on his lips.

They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity.

And then he grabs her hand and tugs her to him. His lips are instantly on hers and she folds into him and it's just _right_.

Everything that was wrong between them in the past few days instantly disappears and is replaced by wonderful sensations and revelations.

Her lips are soft and warm, her kiss firm. She gives a little sigh when he runs his tongue across her lower lip and she lets him in.

Callen's not sure how long they stay like that, slowly exploring each other, but eventually they pull apart, the both of them breathing a little heavier, blinking slowly as if waking from a dream.

It takes a moment for Callen to realize he's backed her up against a wall and he's standing quite close to her, but not touching. One of his hands is braced on the wall, the other cups Nell's cheek. He gently runs his thumb across her soft skin, smiling when she leans into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Nell tilts her head in confusion.

"Not...not for this," Callen clarifies, kissing her softly once more. "But for not realizing what was happening between us."

"So, what exactly is this 'thing' between us?" she asks.

Callen steps away from her and starts to pace. "To be perfectly honest, I don't really know. Circumstance brought us together. Would we have gotten here otherwise? Maybe."

They're staring at each other again and Callen realizes she's just as confused and apprehensive as he is.

"But," he starts. "I'm willing to see where this goes..."

Nell doesn't immediately answer and now Callen's insecurities start to manifest themselves. He sees her mouth move and imagines she's saying he's wrong, that she's not interested, and that they should just remain professional colleagues.

It takes him a moment to realize she's not saying those things at all and he has to mentally rewind the conversation to really listen to what Nell's saying.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you'd be interested in me," she says. "I mean, we're really different and, for a while, I figured you were only paying attention to me because of what happened. And then I realized that I really like you. I mean, I've always liked you but now I..."

She pauses.

"This is like high school all over again," she mutters. Callen's lips twitch into a half-grin.

"Anyway," she continues, stepping towards him. "I...don't really know you very well. Outside of work, I mean. But, the more I learn about you, the more I like you, and that kind of scares me."

Callen frowns and tilts his head in confusion. "Scares you?"

Nell nods, looking away from him for a moment.

"I've...never really known how to interact with, well, people, much less men I've liked," she begins, glancing at him quickly, then away. "I'm pretty much your typical geek nerd, that way. But the point is, you're also completely different from most people I know. I mean, your job is to be no one and everyone at the same time. You're just...different."

"Sam always said I was special," Callen jokes. Nell grins, looking at him briefly before turning away again.

"Look," he continues, touching Nell's elbow and waiting for her to look at him. "I won't pretend that being a career undercover operative doesn't affect my actual life. Sometimes, I wonder if I do some things because one of my many aliases does. But this…this is as close to real as I've ever gotten. You know what I do. You know who I am when I'm not someone else. It won't be easy and I can be kind of an ass sometimes, but I'm game. Are you?"

He kisses her on the forehead and steps back. "Think about it." And then he's gone.

* * *

><p>They don't get a chance to see much of each other the next day except in passing. Callen makes a deliberate choice to wait until Nell leaves for the night and isn't terribly surprised when they're the last two left in the complex.<p>

He's reading an article in the paper at his desk when the upstairs lights go out. He looks up and sees Nell descend the stairs. He doesn't get up, but watches her with his eyes. She's watching him, too, and her eyes stay on his as she makes her way to the main floor and over to him.

Callen raises an eyebrow inquisitively and folds his paper, placing it on the desk. Nell walks around Callen's desk and he swivels his chair so he's facing her. Nell's wringing her hands and her mouth opens and closes a few times as if she's unsure what to say. He stays quiet, curious what she'll do.

He doesn't expect what she does.

Nell steps forward and places her hands on his shoulders, tilting the chair back until it hits the desk. And then she kisses him full on the lips. It lasts a fleeting moment and he's about to pull her to him when she stands and steps back.

"I'm game," she breathes, an impish smile on her face.

Callen blinks and suddenly she's gone and he hears the front door closing.

"Huh."

* * *

><p>The next day, Nell's mood is vastly improved.<p>

Vastly.

She's not sure what to expect when she gets into work, but she knows there's at least one factor that is no longer a mystery.

"You're chipper this morning," Eric says by way of greeting.

Nell shrugs. "I had a good night's sleep."

And that's when the apprehension sets in because in reality, she hadn't slept much at all. She'd been too giddy. It's been years since Nell's felt giddy, much less over a guy.

She kind of wonders if maybe she should have stuck around longer last night and talked things out with Callen. After all, they hadn't really discussed what they were going to do to explore this "situation" between them.

A few minutes later, Eric receives some intel and summons the agents to Ops. She tries not to deliberately watch them all come in, but when her eyes meet Callen's, he smiles at her and throws a wink her way. Nell instantly blushes, ducking her head and becoming extremely absorbed in her terminal.

"What've you got, Eric?" Callen asks.

He casually walks behind her chair and touches her lightly on the shoulder. Somehow, that small motion puts Nell at ease.

The rest of the briefing and the day go smoothly. They interact as they normally would, although any time they're near each other, Nell's not at all astonished to find Callen standing just a little bit closer than he normally would.

Nell's more focused than she's been in days, so it's no surprise that, eventually, that all goes out the window.

She's walking down the hallway when suddenly she isn't.

"What—" is all she's able to get out before she's muffled by a pair of lips.

Callen's lips.

And just as abruptly, she's alone in a broom closet, the door closing softly.

The rest of her day? So not productive at all.

* * *

><p>They do eventually get to talk. Callen leaves first, but not before he drops off a report at Nell's station with a sticky note attached to it: "See you later."<p>

Nell's a little confused, but it's all cleared up when she pulls up to her apartment complex and spies a familiar figure loitering around her building.

"Care to take a walk?" Callen asks, hands in his pocket.

"Sure," she replies with a smile.

Her smile turns to a grin when he takes her hand and he leads her down the sidewalk.

"Sorry I left so abruptly," Callen says. "I carpooled with Sam and didn't think now was the right time to bring up...us."

Nell nods, she can't help but feel just a tiny twinge of disappointment.

As if sensing her mood, Callen continues, "Don't get me wrong, I do want the rest of the team know, just..."

"Not before we do?" she supplies.

"Exactly."

"Do you think it will be a problem? I mean, within NCIS," she asks.

"Fraternization?"

Nell nods.

"There isn't a specific policy against it. It's discouraged amongst field agents for obvious reasons, but that's also one of the reasons some agents do get together," Callen replies.

"I guess it makes sense," she says, pondering. "I mean, especially in OSP. We have to know each other pretty well to work as a team."

Callen nods and they walk for several moments in companionable silence.

"Do you think anyone suspects?" Nell suddenly asks.

Callen stops and regards her.

In unison, they speak: "Hetty."

They both chuckle and resume their walk.

"She hasn't mentioned anything to me," Callen says. "But I have to assume she knows."

"She does seem to know everything," Nell agrees. "So, we'll keep it between us."

"For now. Besides, it'll be interesting to see who figures it out."

They've made a loop around her neighborhood and Callen walks her to her apartment door. Nell turns and he kisses her softly.

"Do you…want to come in?" Nell asks, looking up at him.

Callen's lips quirk and he pulls Nell to him in a hug.

"I do…" he murmurs.

Nell looks up at his tone.

"But?"

Callen smiles and kisses her forehead.

"But Mrs. Miller is watching," he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards her neighbor's apartment.

Nell turns her head slowly and just glimpses Mrs. Miller indeed watching. Nell gasps and looks down quickly, feeling her cheeks flush.

Callen snickers and places a kiss on the top of her head.

"I don't think we want to ruin your reputation," he says.

"We don't?" Nell asks, an impish smile on her face.

"Well," he replies with a wink. "Not yet, at least."

Nell gives a dramatic sigh. "Then, I guess this is good night."

"Good night, Nell." He throws another wink her way and departs, giving Mrs. Miller a nod as he passes her by.

"Such a nice young man," Nell hears her say.

"Yes, he is," she murmurs as she enters her apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam starts to notice something is up between G and Nell during their next case. He's pretty sure no one else has picked up on it-well, probably Hetty, but then she knows everything.

He knows G's been particularly interested in Nell since he was on hand when she was attacked. Sam understands feeling accountable for someone else's safety. After all, he has kids.

But this is something else. This is different. G doesn't get involved and Sam realizes that somehow, some way, G is most definitely involved.

It's the little things, really, that tip him off. Being a SEAL means he was trained in a lot of things and being observant is definitely one of them. In this case, it's the lack of behavior that first niggles at Sam's senses.

G stops checking out all the women they pass by while they're investigating.

Los Angeles is overrun with insanely hot women and G, being a normal, red-blooded male, appreciates them.

Except he's stopped.

Mostly.

Sam notices that the only women that seem to warrant a second glance are short redheads with pixie haircuts. He'd filed that observation away as inconsequential and it would have stayed there except there are other things.

When they're next in the operations center and Eric and Nell are filling them in on their latest intelligence gathering, Sam takes a moment to observe.

It takes him a little while, but finally Sam sees what's happening. Or, rather, what's not happening.

Nell and G are completely ignoring each other. G addresses all his questions neutrally, but always looks at Eric. If he happens to look in Nell's direction, G's gaze is always above her or beside her, never on her. Nell looks each of them in the eye, except G. They stand on exact opposite ends of the main table, as if they're trying to be as far apart as they physically can yet still be part of the same briefing. They even adjust if one of them has to move.

But it isn't an awkward kind of avoidance and it's that thought that makes Sam think about past behaviors. He realizes that, at least a couple weeks ago, there _was_ something wrong between G and Nell. Now, though, it's no longer wrong. If he was a betting man, Sam would wager that now there was something very, very right between them.

"What are you smiling at?" G asks as he brushes past him on the way out.

"Nothing," Sam replies, trying unsuccessfully to make his features neutral. He hangs back just a moment and leaves when he sees Nell follow Callen out of the room with her eyes.

Yep. Definitely right.

Sam mulls it over in his mind as they drive to their suspect's home. Nell's not the kind of woman G's gone for in the past, but given his lack of attachments, Sam doesn't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Maybe Nell's the kind of woman G needs. Stranger things have happened.

And it's not as if Nell is some weak damsel in distress. She's capable, albeit more intellectually than physically, which accounts for why she chose not to go into law enforcement or the military directly. Sam's interactions with Nell have been pleasantly surprising. She might be overly direct sometimes and a little controlling, but she's good at what she does and very smart. As the saying goes, smart is sexy.

He waits until they've been staking out the house for a few hours before broaching the subject. In fact, he waits until Callen's taking a sip of his drink before casually tossing out a question.

"How long have you been sleeping with Nell?"

To Sam's surprise, G doesn't spew his drink all across the windshield-which is good since that's kind of gross-but he does sputter and dribble on himself.

"_What?_" he asks as he dabs at the wet spots on his shirt.

"You heard me," Sam says, grinning.

"I'm not," G responds, glaring.

Sam scoffs. "Please. I've known you too long. I can see it."

G says nothing and the two are locked in a silent battle of the eyes. Sam can tell G's caught off guard, but he's not really mad. It looks like he's trying to decide what to say.

"No, really," G reiterates. "I'm not."

"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, that's your choice," Sam replies with a roll of his eyes. He's a little disappointed, but he's not entirely surprised G chooses not to share.

"Sam."

He raises an eyebrow and his amusement turns into realization as he interprets the look in G's eyes.

G isn't avoiding the subject.

"You're not." It was a statement.

"Nope," G says with a shake of his head, turning back to watch the house.

"Why not?"

G's quiet for so long he's pretty sure he's not going to get an answer.

"It's…complicated."

Sam scoffs again. "Don't give me that bullshit."

"It's…hard to explain."

Sam sighs. "Try me."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" G asks.

"Hell, no, G. This is the first relationship you've had in…how long? And I'm disappointed you kept it from me."

"Trust me," G replies. "It wasn't because I was trying to keep you out of my life."

And this is when Sam realizes that almost everything G has done in the past several months, since Nell was attacked, has been _for_ Nell.

"I get it."

It's G's turn to scoff.

"No, really, G. I do. I need to know these things because you're my partner and they matter," Sam explains. "But I don't need _those_ kinds of details. In fact, I'd probably punch you if you tried to tell me details about you and Nell."

"Glad to know my sex life is of no interest to you."

"You mean lack of one."

G shrugs.

"So what's going on?"

"Certainly not me and Nell."

Sam's eyes narrow and if he had laser vision, G would be a smoldering pile of ash in his car. He's gone through this with the other man many, many times and it's always irritating. Idly, Sam wonders if that's one of G's super powers: the ability to irritate you into near homicidal tendencies.

"I don't know," G sighs. "I really don't. I guess…this is just different. It's not that she's not interested…she definitely is and so am I. But, the timing is all wrong."

Sam doesn't say anything, silently encouraging him to work it out.

"Nell's the first woman I've been interested in that actually knows what I do and who I am. Sure, I've met a couple women who have known I'm an undercover agent….but that's it."

"What about Tracy Keller?" Sam asks.

G turns back to the house they're watching. "She only knew my alias, just like I only knew hers. We were…close, sure. But it was part of the cover."

"And now?"

"Now. Now is definitely different. There is no cover. There is no alias, back story, or part to play. There is no mission. This is real. This is me…us."

"And that's holding you back, how?"

G turns to him, looks him earnestly in the eye. "How am I supposed to let anyone know the real me when _I_ don't even know the real me? I don't even know my own damn _name_, Sam."

"You're worried that anything Nell learns about you isn't really you but all the other people you've been?"

"Something like that," G murmurs.

Sam nods, thinking it over. "It's a valid concern, but like you said, Nell knows about you."

Callen broods. Sam watches.

"Nell's a smart woman, G. I'm thinking she can look past your personas and figure out the G we all know and love. Hell, I did."

G regards him. "You love me?"

Sam narrows his eyes.

"I mean, I know you love me, but do you _love me_, love me?"

"Right now, I hate you."

"Aww, Sam. I never knew you cared so much."

Sam ignores him and turns back to the house, which is lucky since their suspect arrives at that moment.

"Don't think I'm letting this go just because our guy showed up," G says as they exit the vehicle.

* * *

><p>Nell decides that dating Callen is an adventure. He isn't anything like she expects which, in a way, is exactly what she expects.<p>

Some days, he's quiet and withdrawn. She's reluctant to intrude in those moments, but sometimes he'll seek her out, which both surprises and delights her. It takes her a little time to realize he's really more interested in her company than her interaction, which is fine with her.

Other days, Callen's oddly affectionate. This is one aspect of his personality Nell never expected. When they're physically close, he's...gentle. It's not that she expected him to be particularly rough, but more she never expected him to be openly affectionate.

But there are still times, especially in public, when he's someone else. She's pretty sure it's him figuring out how to interact with her. It's fascinating watching him switch into and out of various personalities, whether it's the affectionate boyfriend, the protective one, or someone else entirely.

And, while it is fascinating, it's also quite confusing, because frankly she can't ever really tell what's real with him, sometimes, and she starts to wonder if maybe that'll be a problem for them.

* * *

><p>Callen is so used to wearing another identity that it catches him completely off guard when Nell calls him on it.<p>

"You know, you can be yourself around me."

His mouth automatically opens to form an excuse and he stops himself. "Huh. I hadn't realized I wasn't."

And it's true, even around Sam.

"It's kind of interesting, really," she says. "The more time I spend around you, the more patterns I see."

Callen sits back, an arm on the back of his chair. They're at a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant a short walk from Nell's. "Like what?" he asks, curious.

"Well," she drawls. "There are at least two situations where you're the most natural: one, when you're reading the paper and, two, when you're deflecting from a topic you don't want to talk about."

Callen's eyebrows go up. "You've been studying me."

Nell grins. "I've been considering publishing a paper on the topic."

"Now you're just messing with me," Callen remarks. "So what was I just doing?"

Nell gestures with her chin. "See that guy at the cashier?"

Callen casually surveys the place, takes note of the person in question, then turns back to Nell.

"You just did it again, but as an agent, not a persona."

Callen blinks. "What?"

"I know you were just trying not to bring attention to yourself," she explains. "But normal people don't do that."

Callen just blinks again.

"Anyway, as soon as that guy entered the restaurant a few minutes ago, you immediately shifted into a...a...I can only describe it as a 'dangerous man' persona. Highly territorial."

Callen smirks. "Maybe I wanted to make sure he didn't think he could make a play for you."

Nell shakes her head and grins again. "You could have achieved that in a different, less hostile manner. This was clearly a 'don't fuck with me' vibe."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"See? Deflection! That's totally all you," Nell exclaims in triumph.

Callen purses his lips in thought. "Huh, I really hadn't noticed."

Nell looks like she wants to say something more, but stays silent.

"What now?" Callen slowly asks.

"Well...it's just that I think that's why you're so good at what you do," she says. "The fact that you can slip into and out of personas so easily makes you one of the best undercover agents we have. I don't want to change that."

"You're worried if I notice the changes it'll no longer be as smooth a transition?" he asks.

Nell nods, guilt in her eyes.

Callen sits forward and grasps her hand with both of his.

"Don't stop pointing it out," he says. "What I do for work shouldn't bleed over into my real life. I've already done that more than I realized. I'm glad you brought it up, Nell. I want this...us...to work. I know it won't if I don't let you know me."

She smiles in relief and squeezes his hands.

It's at this point Callen really starts to believe that maybe they can make it work. It both excites him and scares the shit out of him.

"Ready?"

Nell nods and snatches the check out of his hand before he can do anything with it. Callen feigns disappointment for her benefit.

Callen's noticed Nell seems to like bucking tradition sometimes and it manifests itself in some of the strangest ways.

For a while he thought she was doing it on purpose. After spending some time with her, though, he realized she's just so used to doing things on her own that some of her actions are just habit.

"You know," he says as they leave, making sure he holds the door for her, "you make it hard for me to woo you sometimes."

"What, you mean by paying the check?"

"Yep."

Nell giggles. "I consider that neutral ground, actually. We both have to eat. You'll just have to find new ways to woo."

"Fair enough," he replies, taking her hand. "I'm sure there's some resource or another online on progressive wooing techniques."

Nell laughs aloud and Callen smiles at the sound. "Glad you find this so amusing."

"What I find amusing," Nell says, "is that you feel the need to woo me when you already have me."

"Ah, I see the problem here," Callen replies, pulling her close to him. "Call me old fashioned, but I consider wooing an integral part of keeping a relationship alive."

"G. Callen, I never would have taken you for a romantic."

He has no reply, so he tugs her closer and kisses her soundly.

When they pull apart, she looks up at him and he can see the mischief in her eyes before she speaks. "Woo!"

Callen rolls his eyes. "Come on, you dork, let's go home."

They talk about everything and nothing on the walk back to Nell's apartment. As they cross the parking lot, a familiar car catches Callen's attention.

"Isn't that-" Callen starts.

"Oh, crap! Eric!" Nell exclaims, smacking the palm of her hand against her forehead.

A voice calls out to them. "There you are, Nell! Uh...Callen?"

The world's most uncomfortable silence passes between Nell, Callen, and the newest addition to their party: Eric Beale.

Eric's eyes go from Nell to Callen and their entwined hands about a billion times.

"Am I...interrupting something?" Eric asks hesitantly.

"No. Yes. Crap. I'm so sorry, Eric, I totally forgot," Nell says.

She turns to Callen, clearly embarrassed.

"We have a bimonthly movie night thing," she explains. "We watch Sci-Fi movies and make fun of the parts that are clearly wrong and geek out over technology we probably could have."

"Sounds like fun," Callen replies and in a way it is because this is an area where he hasn't really connected with Nell.

"I should-" Eric starts, then stops, turning as if to go. "We can reschedule...or terminate."

"Nah," Callen jumps in before Nell can say anything. "Some traditions are good to keep. We didn't really have any plans for the evening anyway."

Nell looks at him gratefully before turning back to Eric. "What movie did you pick?"

"Oh, uh, _Iron Man_," Eric answers, still clearly uncomfortable.

"Ooh, good choice. It's been a few years since we watched that one," Nell remarks, ushering Eric towards her door.

Callen follows and tries his hardest not to act any differently than he normally would. It proves to be more difficult than he thought it would as his barely suppressed caveman instincts try to kick in every time Eric even looks Nell's way. This, at least, is basic human nature and not something he's picked up over years of undercover work. It doesn't make it any easier.

"You okay?" Nell asks.

"Fine," he answers, settling on the couch.

Nell snuggles up to him and Callen, again, tries not to feel too happy at how visibly uncomfortable it makes Eric.

It takes about half the movie before Eric relaxes enough that he's trading comments with Nell as normally as Callen thinks they would if he hadn't been there. And this is when Callen really starts to enjoy the night because he can see just how much fun Nell is having.

Callen marvels at how animated she becomes debating the relative plausibility of Tony Stark's inventions. In some respects, he's almost like a spectator and he's surprised to realize he's okay with that. They knew going into their relationship that they were two very different people and that's part of what makes them work.

It also doesn't hurt that Nell isn't interested in Eric and, he's surprised to notice, that Eric isn't interested in Nell as anything more than a friend. Callen knows that the dynamics between men and women are different than those between just men or just women and it's often difficult to determine either side's intentions. But, in his unique perspective as an outside observer, it's pretty clear to him that Nell and Eric just enjoy each other's company. It's kind of cute.

The camaraderie lasts until the credits start rolling and Eric tenses up again.

"Just so you guys know, I won't tell anyone about you two," Eric promises.

"That's...nice of you," Nell says, throwing Callen a sidelong glance.

"But not really necessary," he finishes.

"It's not?" Eric asks, clearly confused.

"Well, an intra-office e-mail isn't needed, either," Callen says with what he hopes is an easy going smile.

"What he means," Nell interjects, "is that we're not strictly hiding anything, but we're also not advertising. I'm actually surprised more people don't know."

"Sam guessed a couple weeks ago," Callen supplies.

"What about Hetty?" Eric asks.

Both Callen and Nell give Eric a look.

"Right. Never mind. Stupid question."

Another lull falls in the conversation.

"Anyway," Eric continues. "It's not really anyone else's business, so if other folks find out, it won't be from me."

"Thanks, Eric," Nell replies.

Eric takes his leave then and Callen gives Nell a significant look as she comes back from the door.

"He's going to tell the first person he sees, isn't he?"

"Oh yeah," she answers, flopping back on the couch and into Callen's lap. "At least, unless something shiny catches his attention first."

"Speaking of shiny, nice ear cuffs," he comments, nuzzling her neck.

Nell sighs contentedly and relaxes into Callen's embrace.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly.

"Hmm?" Callen murmurs as he brushes his lips along her jaw line.

"About tonight, with Eric."

"Don't be," he replies, kissing her cheek. "It was cute watching you two geek out like that."

Nell laughs and swats at his arm. Callen catches her hand and pulls her closer, covering her lips with his.

A long time later, they pull apart and Callen repositions himself on the couch, pulling Nell on top of him.

"I'm serious, though," he says, stroking her hair. "I don't expect you to ditch all your friends just because we're together. We're two distinct people with our own lives who have chosen to fill the blank spots in by spending the time together."

"That's why you wanted Eric to stay?"

Callen nods. "Besides, he's your partner. I wouldn't break that up, much like you'd never come between me and Sam."

"Thank you," she says, stroking his cheek. "I'm still surprised more people haven't figured it out. Has Hetty said anything to you?"

"Not at all," he says, shaking his head.

Reluctantly, he gets up from the couch and picks up his coat.

"You can stay, you know," she says and Callen pauses.

Slowly, he turns to her, kisses her softly, and holds her close. "Soon," he whispers. "I don't want to rush this."

He kisses her once more, then leaves.


	7. Chapter 7

Hetty has always been a mystery, this Callen knows. He's beginning to think she's clairvoyant, though, because the day after he and Nell discuss the lack of Hetty intervention, she intervenes.

"Mr. Callen, a word."

It's a statement, almost an order, not a question.

They sit in silence at Hetty's desk for several moments, staring each other right in the eyes.

"It has come to my attention," she begins, "that your interactions with Miss Jones seem to have taken on, shall we say, a more personal nature."

Callen isn't sure what response Hetty is expecting, but he knows whatever response he gives should be the truth. They respect each other enough for that.

"We're seeing each other, yes."

Hetty nods and pours a cup of tea. She eyes him over the lip of the mug as she takes a sip. Callen merely raises an eyebrow.

"Are you sure of your intentions, Mr. Callen?"

He turns his head to the side in question. "My...intentions?"

"This is not a mission and Miss Jones is not a means to an end, to put it crudely."

Callen feels his defenses rise and deliberately tries to squash them. He's only moderately successful.

"I'm aware."

"I suggest if you have any...doubts...of where you think your relationship will go, you clue Miss Jones in."

Callen's brow furrows, unsure of Hetty's point.

"She's a smart woman, Mr. Callen, but she can't read your mind," Hetty tries.

"Oh. Got it," he says. "Is that all?"

Hetty nods, turning to some paperwork. Callen rises to leave. He's not two steps before her voice calls to him once more.

"And, Mr. Callen, do remember Miss Jones has spent a good deal of time creating and reinforcing many of your legends. You cannot hide from her."

Callen grins for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>To say Nell is a little frustrated with the pace of her relationship with Callen is putting it mildly. It isn't as if she expected to, say, jump into bed with him immediately. But she didn't expect him to be so, for lack of a better term, careful.<p>

It makes her wonder if she really has a future with Callen. Sure, they spend an awful lot of time together now but he's never had her over to his place and he never stays at hers. She knows he's not _that_ old fashioned, despite him saying he doesn't want to rush things, so she starts to think maybe it's her.

Her thoughts are interrupted with the arrival of Sam at her main floor station.

"Can I help you?" she asks, thinking if she was supposed to have done something for him.

Sam actually looks a little flustered.

"Yes, actually, you can," he says. "You can keep me from killing Eric."

Nell sits up in surprise. "Eric?"

Sam nods and pulls up a chair. "He won't stop talking about you and G."

Nell's eyes widen in shock. "Really?"

"Yeah, he keeps cornering me and trying to, I dunno, gossip? It's getting on my nerves."

Nell can't help it; she laughs.

Sam just gives her a look.

"I'm kind of surprised he hasn't announced it to the whole complex," she admits.

"Oh, trust me, I think that's the next step if he doesn't get his inner school girl out," Sam grouses.

"Sorry," she says. "We're the ones that mentioned you knew."

Sam sighs and shakes his head. "It's like he's never had friends in relationships before."

"Well, not many of us do," she reasons.

"How do you mean?"

"The field agents probably have it harder, but the support staff, especially like me and Eric, it's not like we can talk about what we do either."

"I suppose that's true," Sam agrees. "To be honest, I half expected you and Eric to hook up."

Nell blushes at the comment.

"I'll admit I was...curious about and maybe a tiny bit interested in him before I came here. He has quite a reputation in the community," she says, not looking at Sam. "And we do hang out."

"But?" Sam prods. "There's always a but."

"We're too alike."

Sam just laughs. "Well, if you wanted something different, G certainly fits the bill."

"How's that going, by the way?" Sam continues. "Not that I want to pry, like Eric. In fact, forget I asked."

"No, it's okay. To be honest, it'd be nice to talk to someone about it," she says. "It's...going."

Sam merely raises an eyebrow.

Nell sighs. "We spend time together and it's fun..."

"Let me guess," Sam starts. "You feel like he doesn't exactly share? Like he's holding something back?"

"Yes, that's it exactly," she breathes. "I thought it was just me."

Sam smiles again, this time a little sadly. "Unfortunately, it's G. We've been partners, and friends, for several years. It's never been easy."

"What do you do?"

"For a while, I just let him distance himself," Sam admits. "But then I realized G's never known any different. I mean, how much stability in personal relationships can a person have when they've hopped 37 different foster homes in 13 years as a child and moves homes almost yearly, if not faster, as an adult?"

"I guess that's true," Nell muses.

"So, I think G just doesn't know what to do when things are going well. It's like he's programmed to believe everything will end badly so it does."

"That...doesn't sound encouraging."

"Just..." Sam gesticulates. "He can run away, sometimes. But I never let him run for long."

"You think I should wait for him?"

"No, that isn't fair to you," Sam says. "But you can be there for him."

"So, give him something to come home to?" she tries, still not understanding.

"Sort of. Think of him as like a lone wolf...or a feral cat. A mangy one. And stubborn, too. Not to mention-never mind. Anyway. He'll come to you if he knows you're not a threat. He'll return to you if he knows you'll be there. It's hard to explain."

Nell's quiet for a long moment before she speaks again. "And if I can't?"

"Then end it now, before it's too late."

Neither of them voice the fact that it's probably already too late.

"So, how far does this analogy go?" she asks instead.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if he's like a feral cat, should I like, expect dead mice on my doorstep or something?"

Sam barks a laugh. "If he starts doing that, call me. That's when we know he'll have to be put down."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Nell replies, seriously.

"Same," Sam agrees. "Damn, here comes Eric again. I'll see you later."

He beats a hasty retreat, leaving Nell with even more confused thoughts.

* * *

><p>Kensi's staring at a blank spot about a foot in front of her face, trying to think up more interesting nouns to refer to a suspect in her latest report, when her eyes focus on what she's actually looking at.<p>

Nell is at her workbench again and Callen's with her.

Kensi's eyes narrow and she blindly flings her arm out, smacking Deeks on the arm.

"Hey!" he complains, rubbing his arm.

"Don't be such a baby," she mutters.

"What was that for?"

She's still watching Callen and Nell, who are now standing quite close together. Does he have his hands on her shoulders?

"Look," she whispers.

Deeks is quiet as they watch. "Is he...giving her a shoulder rub?"

They tilt their heads to the left in unison and continue to watch. Nell smiles at Callen when he sits next to her and puts a hand on his arm affectionately.

"Whoa," Kensi and Deeks say together.

Kensi turns to Deeks, clearly surprised. "When did _that_ happen?"

"A few weeks ago," Sam supplies as he walks into the bullpen, dropping into his chair across from them.

"What? No way," Deeks protests. "We saw them before and they were not like that."

"No, that was a couple weeks before a few weeks ago," Sam says. "Back _then_ there wasn't anything going on. At least, not officially."

"Wait, what?" Kensi says, thinking and flicking a finger in the air counting on an invisible calendar. "Oh, I get it."

Deeks raises an eyebrow.

"There wasn't anything going on when we thought there might have been, so it was just after we thought there was something going on when there really wasn't that there really started to be something going on," Kensi explains.

Deeks just shakes his head. "My brain hurts."

"Anyway, now that you two are clued in, Eric can assault you with his need to gossip," Sam says.

A sharp whistle cuts through the air.

"Speaking of," Kensi mutters. "This ought to be interesting."

There's an odd tension in the room when the agents gather in Ops. Eric is practically bouncing on his feet. Nell and Callen are on opposite sides of the room and Kensi realizes that, if she thinks about it, they've been doing that a lot in recent weeks.

"Mr. Beale, is there something wrong?" Hetty asks when Eric doesn't begin the briefing promptly.

"What? No. It's just. No, I said I wouldn't say anything. But-"

Kensi and Deeks share a look and decide to give Eric some relief.

"We all know, Eric," Kensi says.

"You do?" he asks slowly, clearly confused as to what Kensi is referring to.

She rolls her eyes, then pointedly looks at Callen, then Nell.

"Oh. Oh! Oh, thank god, I didn't know how much longer I could keep quiet," Eric admits, visibly relaxing. "I mean, even though I promised I wou-"

"Mr. Beale!" Hetty calls out, trying to regain some order in the group.

"Right, sorry!" he says, then starts pulling up files.

The mission is pretty straight forward and Nell and Eric take turns providing information. Kensi half expects Callen and Nell to act differently now that everyone in the room knows they're involved but she isn't completely surprised when they act the same as they did before. After all, it is a professional environment.

She does, however, note that Callen waits for Nell and stands close to her, a hand on the small of her back, as they all file out of Ops and Kensi smiles.

"I have to admit," Deeks says, "I didn't think they'd get together. I mean, isn't he kind of old for her?"

Kensi grins wider. "I dunno, Deeks. Some women prefer an older man. Certainly one who's more mature."

Deeks scoffs at the implication.


	8. Chapter 8

"You know, it's kind of liberating now that everyone knows," Nell muses as she and Callen drive to work one day.

"You're right," he admits. "But it's not like there was an appropriate way to let everyone know."

Callen drums his fingers on the steering wheel as morning rush hour slows them down a bit. He feels her eyes on him and he turns to her, but she's no longer looking at him.

This isn't the first time this has happened. Sometimes, especially when he's been brooding, Callen catches Nell staring at him. She never says anything, but he's definitely detected worry in her gaze. He finally asks her about it.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, what makes you ask?"

Callen shrugs. "Sometimes you stare at me and I get the feeling you're worried about something."

Nell's quiet which prompts him to look at her.

She sighs quietly. "Oh. I was just thinking."

"About?" he prods. Clearly, she's reluctant to discuss the matter with him.

"You get this look on your face like you're looking for something," she starts. "And sometimes it's like you want to be somewhere else. And, well, I've seen your file, I know you've moved around a lot, not just homes but jobs, too."

Callen thinks he knows where the conversation is going.

"And, well, I just wanted to say that if you feel like leaving, it's okay."

Callen almost doesn't notice the car in front of him has stopped because he wasn't expecting the conversation to go _that_ way. He hits the brakes, hard, and they both slide forward, engaging the seatbelt safety catches.

"Sorry. Hold that thought," he remarks.

When traffic moves again he pulls off at the nearest opportunity, which happens to be by a community park.

Callen's brow furrows in confusion as he shuts off the car and turns to face Nell.

"What was that again?"

Nell fidgets.

Callen realizes his pose might seem confrontational, which isn't the attitude he wants to portray. He's not upset, just surprised. So, he makes a visible effort to relax.

"It's just, well, I sometimes wonder if you'll decide to leave and if there's a place for me to go with you," Nell says, voice rushed. "And if there isn't, I just wanted you to know that it's okay. I...I won't stop you."

Now it's Callen's turn to fidget. The car feels too stuffy, too constricted, so he gets out of the car. He takes a deep breath before walking around to the passenger side and opening the door. Nell looks up at him in question, but he doesn't trust himself to speak. Not yet. So he gestures with his head and she steps out.

Callen takes her hand, closes the door, locks the car, and then he's walking quickly into the park, Nell almost having to run to keep up with him. They walk for several minutes and a couple times he's had to steady her when she's stumbled, but finally they reach a picnic table on the far side of the park. It's somewhat secluded, yet still in an open space.

Callen cringes when he sees the look on Nell's face. She's afraid. Of him. And that's the last thing he ever wants her to be. Oddly, it makes him want to go to her. In the past, something like this would have made him want to turn and walk away, to remove himself as part of the equation that's causing hurt.

"I'm not mad," he says.

Nell visibly relaxes and so does he. He waves her to the table and she perches on the top, feet resting on a bench.

"I'm a little upset, but I'm not mad," he continues. "I...I...shit."

Callen paces and he's grateful that Nell doesn't try to speak. He tries to gather his thoughts into something more than snippets of coherence.

"I don't know how to do this," he tries. "Us, I mean. You're the first woman I've really been in a significant relationship with outside of a mission. I'm good at improvisation, but I don't often have to think about it outside of mission parameters. This? This is different. This is just..."

He runs a hand over his head, trying to think of the right words.

"Life?" Nell supplies.

"It's more than that. I don't know how to explain it," he says, almost pleadingly.

Callen approaches Nell and takes her hands. "I guess you could say I've been spoiled by the lifestyle I've chosen. In taking on other identities, I haven't really had to deal with mine. Even as a kid, it was like being reborn every home I went to. The real Callen is buried so deep, I don't even know if he exists anymore. I keep looking for clues, but I don't know if it will help if I find them."

Nell makes him sit beside her. When he does, she stands, then straddles his knees, sitting on his lap with her knees on the table. He's surprised by her boldness but doesn't question it. Automatically, he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, breathing in the scent of her.

"Is that what you're looking for? When you've got that faraway look in your eyes?" she asks, voice quiet.

"Maybe."

"Is it why you don't let people get close to you?"

Callen frowns and leans back to look in Nell's face. He sees apprehension in her eyes. He has no words.

"You don't, you know." Nell's voice has a hint of sadness in it. "Even when we're together, there's a part of you that you hold close. Maybe you don't even know what it is."

His eyes hold her gaze for a long moment and he finally understands that, without even realizing it, he's put a barrier in their relationship that makes her believe he doesn't want her in his life.

"I don't know," he admits. "And I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was...blocking you."

Nell smiles, then, with genuine happiness and he can physically feel her relief. It seems to permeate him and fills him with an overwhelming sense of completeness.

"I love you," he blurts out.

The look of surprise on Nell's face must be mirrored on Callen's because he's not sure where the proclamation came from. He hasn't really thought about his feelings for her on that level, but saying it aloud doesn't feel wrong. In fact, it feels more right than many things in his life.

"I really do," he continues, wanting to get words in before she speaks. "But this relationship goes both ways. You really need to stop trying to adapt to me all the time. You're allowed to kick my ass, sometimes. Everyone else does."

"Tries," she retorts with a grin.

Callen smiles, then reiterates, "I mean it. I'm...disappointed that I've made you feel like I would leave you behind or don't want you in my life. I don't want that and I hope you don't, either."

She nods, but doesn't speak, and Callen can tell there's more.

"Spill it," he says. His tone is serious but he smiles to try to lighten the mood.

"Well, I have to wonder," she starts, hedging a little, "why you've never invited me over."

Callen raises an eyebrow and answers in a flat tone, "There's nothing there."

Nell narrows her eyes. "You are."

"Trust me," Callen responds. "I have a chair, a bedroll, and a lamp. We'd have to go out for entertainment."

"Still, it's your place."

Callen thinks about it from her point of view and realizes where she's going with the comment. It is yet another example of him unintentionally shutting her out.

"Tonight," he says. "We'll get takeout and eat at my place."

"Ok," she says, eyes crinkling in delight. It makes him feel unexpectedly vulnerable and he hugs her close.

"Anything else?"

And then she goes into territory that he'd been thinking about but wasn't sure she'd go to. Then again, Nell has never been exactly shy.

"Why won't you spend the night?"

Callen laughs quietly. "Straight to the point," he murmurs.

She smiles, cheeks pink. "Well?"

"Don't ever think that I don't want you," he remarks, pulling her closer to him, brushing his lips across hers. "But I also want this to work, Nell, and we're coming from not knowing each other at all. I don't want to rush things."

"Your definition of rushing is frustrating," she mutters, pouting a little.

Callen laughs aloud. "You know, you're not exactly a shy woman. You could have jumped me?"

Nell blushes even more, which makes Callen laugh harder.

"Hey, this is your fault!" she admonishes, poking him in the chest. "It all goes back to the whole do you or don't you want me in your life thing."

Callen's mood turns serious and he kisses her soundly.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I seem to do a lot of things wrong with you."

"Well, not wrong, really," she breathes. "Maybe outside of expectations."

He runs a hand through her hair and places his palm on her cheek. He presses his cheek to hers.

"There's also timing," he says softly. "I could throw you down and make love to you right here."

He feels her gasp and tighten her legs around him. With visible effort, he pulls back from her. "And if you keep that up, I won't be able to help myself," he remarks, voice nearly a groan.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Nell breathes. Callen almost loses it with the look in her eyes.

"Maybe not, but this is not the time and definitely not the place."

A smile Callen can only describe as wicked crosses Nell's face and she wiggles on his lap. He grasps her legs with his hands to make her stop.

"Splinters," he says. "Splinters near, ah, sensitive parts would not be fun."

"I suppose you're right," Nell sighs. "I guess we should get to work, then."

"In a minute," Callen says, shifting uncomfortably.

"What's wro- Oh."

Nell looks to the side and Callen just knows she's laughing.

"Evil, evil woman," he mock grouses. "You'll pay for this."

"Tease."

* * *

><p>The rest of the morning passes mostly uneventfully. Callen sees Nell rush to her workstation and back to Ops a few times but he's occupied with additional training with the support staff so he can't ask her what's going on.<p>

He finds out early-afternoon: the team has a new mission.

As the team files into Ops, Eric isn't the one standing in front of the big screen. Nell is.

Callen raises an eyebrow, but she just smiles at him as the rest of the team settles into their spots.

"Miss Jones, please fill us in on our most recent assignment," Hetty announces, taking her place in Ops.

Nell nods, clasps her hands behind her back, then nods to Eric who queues up some images.

"We have a possible case of weapons intel making its way to militant Venezuelan groups with ties to al Qaeda," she begins. This, of course, explains why Nell is performing the briefing, since she's the one with a background in South American affairs. "Three days ago, the intelligence community picked up some chatter on new weapons designs that even most of the US military doesn't know about," she continues.

The briefing continues. If the information they have is correct, the implications are very far reaching. Nell fills them in on the current political climate and the possible terrorist cell connections.

"Looks like Venezuela is making a big push to join the nuclear arms game," Callen muses.

"Where did the intel come from?" Kensi asks.

A military ID pops up on the big screen.

"A week ago, Lieutenant Alexis Hightower went missing. She was on special assignment with ONI and had in depth knowledge of the new weapons technology," Nell explains. "Her body washed ashore near the Santa Monica Pier yesterday."

"Cause of death?" Sam asks.

"Single gunshot wound to the head-execution style," Eric says. "Initial autopsy results indicate time of death was shortly after her disappearance."

Deeks frowns at the screen. "So soon? She wouldn't have given up intel that easy."

Nell nods, then faces the screen as more pictures pop up. "She didn't have to. Lieutenant Hightower's residence was ransacked and no trace of her government issue laptop or personal electronics were found. But, we did catch a break on the security camera footage outside of her apartment complex."

A passport picture comes up on the big screen.

"Alessandro Alvarez, Venezuelan native and known associate of Luis Hernandez, a mid-level Venezuelan diplomat who just so happens to be stationed in Los Angeles," Eric supplies.

"Alessandro was spotted leaving Lieutenant Hightower's complex the day she disappeared," Nell adds.

"Known address?" Callen asks.

"Sent to your phones along with vehicle information and other intel," Nell answers.

* * *

><p>Finding Alessandro is easy. Accessing him, not so much. The team expends a lot of effort trying to track Alvarez down, but returns to the compound after running into several roadblocks, trudging up to Ops to compare their meager notes. Callen sighs in frustration, palms on the table, as his eyes scan the big screen once more. Not much has been added.<p>

"Looks like Alessandro's activities have earned him a promotion," Callen explains. "He recently vacated his last known address and, according to the woman who used to clean his place, has moved into housing on Hernandez's property."

"We also found out that both Alvarez and Hernandez are paranoid about electronic communications," Kensi adds.

"You can say that again," Eric bemoans. "There's almost no record of them ever talking to each other via traceable phone."

"I can't even find any online activity from either of them," Nell chimes in, equally disheartened. "The most I could find were a couple of online purchases by Hernandez's wife and a seldom used Xbox Live account for his sons."

"False identities?" Sam asks.

"Maybe, but they've hidden their tracks well if so," Nell admits.

"Yup, thanks," Deeks says into his phone as he walks into Ops, hanging it up. "More bad news. LAPD recovered Lieutenant Hightower's computers, but they're trashed beyond recovery."

"They must have extracted the information from it and tossed the hardware," Kensi says.

"It seems Hernandez and Alvarez are exceedingly careful," Hetty remarks, walking into Ops. "As such, we will have to resort to more...inventive investigative means, I'm afraid."

Deeks cocks his head in question. "What did you have in mind?"

"Although Luis Hernandez has an aversion to electronic communication, he does have a soft spot for in-person mingling," Hetty explains. "He's throwing a party tonight."

"And you just so happen to have invitations?" Sam snorts in amusement.

"So, the four of us, then?" Deeks asks, referring to himself and the field agents.

"Actually, we may need the services of one our support staff," Hetty begins. "Since we've established these men are not likely to have their computers, if they have them, network accessible so Mr. Beale can do what he does best, you're going to have to improvise on the spot."

"So, we're taking Eric?" Deeks inquires.

Hetty, however, turns to Nell. Callen narrows his eyes.

"No, Mr. Deeks. You'll be taking Miss Jones, because you see, she has at least one more skill in her repertoire Mr. Beale does not," Hetty answers.

All eyes turn to Nell, who fidgets under the scrutiny. She also seems surprised at Hetty's suggestion.

"She's fluent in Spanish," Hetty finishes.

"Ahh," Deeks remarks. "You're thinking that it's also likely any computer equipment they'll have will be in Spanish?"

"Precisely," Hetty nods.

"Makes sense," Deeks muses. "But, hey, Kensi knows Spanish, too, right? We don't necessarily have to take Nell. Not that I think you're incapable, I'm just saying from a safety standpoint, this could be dangerous. Ow-"

Kensi shifts on her feet, having clearly just kicked Deeks in the shin. "Yes, I'm fluent in Spanish, but so is Callen. Then again, neither of us have nearly the same computer skills as Nell."

"Earwig," Callen immediately suggests and instantly wishes he hadn't. He can see Nell staring at him, clearly surprised and he thinks about whether or not he's trying to keep her out of the mission for personal or professional reasons. It's a little of both, but mostly personal, so he makes an effort to tamp down his inner over-protective caveman and amends his comment. "Wait, that won't work. It'll be too slow, especially if we're pressed for time."

Sam agrees. "Nell will have the best chance of relaying information back to Eric in as efficient a manner as he needs than any of us."

"Then it's settled," Hetty concludes with a clap of her hands. "Mr. Callen, given your current status with Miss Jones, I feel it would be best if you escorted her to tonight's gala."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Hetty," he answers, moving to stand next to Nell and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Miss Blye, Mr. Deeks, you two will provide backup."

"You mean as a couple?" Deeks asks, a little too enthusiastically.

Kensi leans away from him, arms crossed over her chest, eying him suspiciously.

"What? It makes sense. We're partners, after all..."

Hetty merely looks away and turns to Sam.

"I'm afraid this leaves you with the unsavory task of being part of the wait staff, Mr. Hanna."

Sam shrugs. "Could be worse. I could be Deeks's date."

Deeks yelps in offense and Kensi looks aside, snickering.

"In any case," Hetty calls, waving her hands for silence, "there are only a few hours before the event, so it would be best to begin preparations sooner rather than later. Miss Jones, if you'll come with me, I have the perfect 'little black dress' for you."

Callen squeezes Nell's shoulder before she heads to wardrobe with Hetty.

"You okay with this, G?" Sam asks.

"Yes and no," he answers with a shrug. "It's the right thing to do, given the circumstances."

"But you don't have to like it?" Sam supplies.

Callen nods. "Logically, and practically, Hetty's right. But I still don't like it."

"Think she can handle it?"

"Who, Nell? She'll be fine," Callen reassures, although he's not entirely sure who he's trying to reassure.

* * *

><p>Nell tries not to fidget too much as Hetty examines her in the outfit she's picked. It's actually quite nice. The dress has one exposed shoulder to give it a modern flair but a classic design otherwise. It falls to just above the knee and Hetty's chosen a pair of shoes with a heel of a sensible height.<p>

"There we are, my dear," Hetty murmurs, draping a sheer black scarf decoratively around Nell's shoulders. "That should do it."

Nell takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Are you all right, Miss Jones?"

"Um...I suppose I'll have to be."

Hetty takes her hands, then, and looks earnestly into her eyes.

"I would not have suggested you for this part if I did not think you were both ready and capable," the older woman says. "But, if you are uncomfortable with this mission, we'll find another way."

"Oh, no!" Nell exclaims. "No, it's...I'm just...nervous I mean, I know I can do the job. I've just, you know, never been out in the field in this capacity. In the center of attention."

Hetty smiles and pats Nell's hands.

"You are exceptional at what you do, my dear. And while you're not an agent, this is why Mr. Callen will be by your side at all times. Let him handle all the particulars until your specific skills are needed."

Nell nods and looks at her reflection in the mirror.

"This really is a nice dress," she muses aloud.

"Yes, it is," Callen's voice calls.

Nell turns, careful not to tip over on her shoes, and spies him leaning against the changing room wall. She blushes as his eyes slowly make their way up and down her body in appreciation.

"Ah, Mr. Callen. For you, I've chosen a suit that has a cut that will complement Miss Jones's dress nicely. If you will..." Hetty gestures to the changing room, a bundle of neatly arranged clothes on hangers in her other hand.

"Sure," he responds, taking the clothes. He addresses Nell before stepping into the changing room, "Eric would like to see you, Nell. He has some last minute tools for you."

Nell nods and heads up to Ops, walking slowly since she doesn't wear heels. Ever. She makes it to the top without incident and strolls into the command center.

Eric whistles at her when she walks in and she rolls her eyes.

"Nice dress, partner," he calls, a goofy grin on his face.

"You can try it on later," she retorts.

Eric puts his hands up defensively. "You wouldn't want to see that."

"So what's this about tools?" she asks, putting her clutch purse on the main table.

"Wow, okay, it's a good thing Kensi reminded me about this before 'cause that's a _tiny_ purse."

"Well, it's not like I can lug a heavy tool bag with me."

Eric just smiles and hands her a small cloth pouch. Nell takes it from him and peers inside.

"The thumb drive has tools that are programmed to look for both English and Spanish keywords," Eric explains. "Sam will be carrying a backup thumb drive and adapter to copy yours once you get the data we need. The other agents will have adapters for their phones so the data can be transmitted back here. Just give that drive to Sam in a handoff and he'll give it to Kensi or Deeks when he's done with the copy."

"A backup and a backup. Smart," she says as she tucks the small case into her clutch.

Eric's smile falters a tiny bit. "How do you feel about this?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried," she sighs softly. "But I don't feel like I _can't_ do it."

Eric moves to stand beside her and bumps her shoulder with his. "I'll be here, watching you every step of the way and ready to help when you say the word."

"I know..."

"Besides," he leans in conspiratorially, "what could go wrong when you have your very own secret agent man to keep you safe?"

Eric just manages to dance out of reach as Nell laughs and swats at him.

* * *

><p>The drive to the gala is conducted mostly in silence. Callen drives one-handed, his other hand holding Nell's.<p>

"The moment you feel like something's really wrong, just say the word and we're out," he says, breaking the silence. "We can find another opportunity."

Nell squeezes his hand and gives him a smile.

"Thanks," she says. "I...really want to be able to do this. But I won't take any risks."

"I'll be with you the whole time."

"I know."

As they get closer to the Hernandez estate, Callen can feel Nell's anxiety level go up.

"Why don't you test out the earwig," he suggests. "You've only used the headset before, right? It takes a little getting used to."

Nell does so and Callen hopes it will take her mind off the mission at least for a little while.

"Um...hello?" he hears her say, voice tentative.

Callen inserts his own earwig, just in time to hear Deeks's enthusiastic and loud reply. He sees Nell cringe.

"Keep it down!" Sam whispers back. "I almost dropped a whole tray of champagne."

"How's the party, Sam?" Callen asks.

"I give Hernandez points for knowing how to throw a party," Sam replies. "And I wish I'd learned more Spanish. The more these people drink, the less English they speak."

The conversation is interrupted by the sound of a woman's voice.

Callen's eyes widen slightly as he translates the woman's words. He can see Nell out of the corner of his eye, covering her mouth with her hand. Kensi's openly laughing.

"What?" Deeks asks. "What's she saying? I gotta learn real Spanish."

"Sounds like you've made quite an impression, Sam," Callen remarks. "Need me to tell you what she requested?"

Sam snorts. "Given what that lady just did, I don't need a translation, thanks."

"What?" Deeks whines.

"I'll tell you later," Kensi says. "Right now let's focus on the mission. We've just arrived."

"We'll see you inside," Callen responds.

"How're things on your side, Eric?" Callen calls out.

"Loud and clear," he responds. "And, uh, I, too, don't need a translation. Sam happened to be in direct sight of one of the remote cameras he was able to install."

"Damn it, why am I always the last to know?" they hear Deeks mutter.

Callen tunes out his ramblings and gives Nell's hand another squeeze.

"Here we go," he murmurs under his breath.

Arrival at the Hernandez estate goes smoothly, more so when Callen speaks polite Spanish to the gate guards and valets. He helps Nell out of the car and tucks her hand around his arm and they enter the gala.

"Wow," Nell says.

"Yeah," Callen replies. "Luis Hernandez definitely knows how to party."

Live band. Lots of people. Tons of food. The main house was vast, spanning several floors and rooms. There were also many nooks and crannies where several amorous couples were already taking advantage of the relative privacy of strategically placed mood lighting-or lack thereof.

Callen and Nell make their way through the crowd.

"This is a _lot_ of people," Nell remarks.

"It'll work in our favor," Callen says. "Easier to hide in a crowd like this."

"A drink for the lady?" a voice comes from their right.

"Uh," Nell stammers, clearly caught off guard by Sam's sudden appearance and trying not to look like she knows him.

Callen inclines his head in thanks and grabs two drinks from Sam's tray.

"Second floor. Northeast corner. Manual lock access. Guards are on 7 minute rotations," Sam says as he passes behind them. He's soon swallowed by the crowd.

"Manual lock?" Nell queries.

"Takes more time to pick and you can't short them out," Callen explains. "Not entirely surprised."

"Huh," Nell replies before sniffing her drink.

"Rum," Sam's voice sounds in their ears.

"Of course. It is the most common Venezuelan spirit," she says before taking a sip. She coughs. "And strong."

Callen raises an eyebrow before following suit. "When in Rome, I suppose."

"Or a Venezuelan diplomat's party," she replies.

Callen maneuvers them through the party, mingling with strangers and holing up in a corner here and there. They pass by Kensi and Deeks without a second glance before heading upstairs. They make their way to an open terrace and take a moment to enjoy the fresh air.

"How can you stand it?" Nell whispers.

"Hmm?" Callen asks, taking the opportunity to snuggle up to her from behind as they take in the view.

In the distance, he can see two figures making their way to one of the many small houses on the estate. No doubt, Kensi and Deeks are trying to find Alvarez's place.

"All the voices," she says.

"Oh. Practice, I suppose," Callen answers, nuzzling into her hair a little. "It's much like talking to people in a crowded room like we just were."

"Well, sure," Nell replies, leaning back into him. "But I don't see how you can't have a big headache from hearing all the conversations relayed through the earpieces multiple times."

"Selective hearing," Sam chimes in.

"Did someone say something?" Callen asks no one in particular.

"Exactly. By the way, 'mark'."

Nell turns around in Callen's arms and raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Guards," Callen mouths before dropping a kiss on Nell's lips.

A few moments later, Sam's voice comes through their earwigs. "Lock is done."

"Good work," Callen breathes, maneuvering Nell off the balcony and inside.

"Now?" Nell asks.

"Next rotation," Callen murmurs, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Relax."

Callen's searching for something in particular and finds an alcove near their destination that's currently unoccupied. He grabs Nell by the hand and leads her to it. It's small and not lit very well, the perfect romantic hideaway at a busy party. Or a place to quietly stakeout the locale.

"No luck," Kensi's voice comes over the comms. "Alvarez's place didn't have anything of interest."

"The guy must be bored out of his mind," Deeks chimes in. "The only thing he had in there for entertainment was an old TV. I mean really old. Rabbit ears and all. Oh, and a ton of books."

"Books are entertainment," Nell blurts out, then claps her hand over her mouth.

Kensi laughs. "Deeks thinks books are entertaining only if they have pictures."

"Hey!" Deeks protests.

"Anyway, we're on our way back," Kensi informs.

Callen catches movement out of the corner of his eye and snuggles in closer to Nell.

"Guard?" she whispers.

"Mmhmm," he murmurs, nuzzling close.

"We're up," he remarks as soon as the guard leaves the area.

"You've got less than 6 minutes," Eric's voice comes over the comms.

They make it into the room without incident and Nell makes a beeline for the desk when Callen indicates the room is clear. There's a laptop on the desk, lid open.

"Now, it's your turn," Callen says as he rounds the desk to stand beside Nell.

* * *

><p>Nell sits down at the laptop and wakes it up, waiting to see what she's up against.<p>

"Huh," she says aloud. "For someone who's paranoid about electronics, I would have expected something stronger than the standard login."

"Well, you haven't gotten in, yet," Eric points out in her ear.

"True..." she says, pulling the thumb drive out of her clutch. "At least he uses recent technology. I was half afraid he either wouldn't have a computer or didn't have USB slots."

Nell plugs in the thumb drive and Eric's tools immediately pop up. Choosing the Spanish option, she waits. Luckily, she doesn't have to wait very long.

"We're in," she says and begins poking around. "Great job, Eric."

"Thanks." She can practically feel him beaming through the earwig.

Callen, she notices, paces around the desk, constantly checking everything. "How are we doing, Sam?"

"Guards are still on regular rotation. Five minutes left."

Kensi's voice pops up. "Alvarez and Hernandez are in the main room. Looks like they're discussing something."

Nell tries to block them out and is mildly successful. She quickly scans the results of the search that's running, tossing out items that are clearly not what they want, conferring with Eric for items that are suspect.

"Got it," Nell announces. "Copying the files now."

"Uh, guys?" Deeks says. "Hernandez and Alvarez are heading upstairs."

Nell looks up quickly, meeting Callen's eyes. "What do we do? The copy won't be done for at least another 30 seconds, maybe more."

Callen comes back around the desk and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever happens, just follow my lead."

She jumps when she hears a ruckus through her earpiece. It sounds as if a tray has fallen.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Sam says, clearly trying to delay the men. "With all these people, it's hard to maneuver. Let me get you a towel."

"No, it's all right," a heavily accented voice replies. In Spanish, the man speaks to his companion, "_You go ahead, Luis. I need to get this shirt soaking before the stain sets._"

"_You and your fashion, Alessandro_," Hernandez replies.

Nell checks on the file copy progress. "Still going," she murmurs.

Next to try a diversion is Kensi, who unsuccessfully tries to engage Hernandez in conversation. Nell nervously watches the progress bar as Hernandez quickly brushes Kensi off.

"Whatever's in that room must be really important right now," Kensi mutters, disappointment clearly in her voice.

"He's just down the hall," Deeks observes. "You guys won't be able to get out."

"Got it covered," Callen says.

Nell looks up at him. Her heart is thumping loudly in her chest.

"How much time?" he asks.

Nell checks. "15 seconds. But even if it was done now..."

"I know. Do you trust me?" he asks, pulling her to her feet.

"Of course."

She almost has a heart attack when she hears the door open but then Callen makes her forget about everything.

Suddenly, he spins her around and she's sitting on the edge of the desk. Callen has one hand tangled in her hair, the other is behind her knee, pulling her provocatively close to him. And then he's kissing her, deeply, and she can't help but sigh and wrap herself around him.

"Hey! You can't be in here! How did you get in here?"

Hernandez's voice tears Nell away from the moment and she literally squeaks as Callen pulls her off the desk and shoves her behind him. She's out of visual range of the other man, but she can see the laptop screen and the copy seems to be taking longer than it should just to spite her.

"The door was unlocked," Callen answers slowly.

There's a pause and Nell can hear the sound of a doorknob turning as Hernandez realizes he didn't have to use his key to enter.

"In any case, you cannot be in here. This is my private office."

"Sorry, sorry," Callen placates, hands up. "But, you know how it is."

There's another pause before Hernandez speaks. "Perhaps you and your lady friend should retire for the evening. To your own home."

"Perhaps," Callen replies. "Shall we?"

He's turned to her and she looks up at him. Callen winks at her and as he reaches for her clutch to hand back to her, he "accidentally" spills its meager contents on the desk, right next to the laptop.

"Oh!" she exclaims, quickly snatching up the pieces and unceremoniously yanking the thumb drive from its slot and deftly closing all her open windows and locking the laptop down as her hands pass over the keyboard.

Nell allows Callen to lead her out, mostly because she's pretty sure her heart's going to explode from how fast it's beating and she's not sure she could do much of anything on her own at that moment.

They make it back downstairs without incident and as Callen makes a show of looking over the crowd as if searching for someone, the handoff to Sam is made. Although, it is less of a handoff and more like Sam surreptitiously prying the thumb drive out of the death grip Nell has on it.

"Any sign of pursuit?" Callen murmurs.

"Hernandez is still in his office," Kensi says. "There's no unusual activity."

Callen looks down at her, then. "Let's dance."

"What?" Nell asks, confused.

Callen merely smiles and leads her into the heart of the crowd. The song is slow and a little sultry.

"Breathe," he murmurs as he pulls her close.

That's when Nell realizes he must see what she's feeling. She's exhilarated and terrified all at once. She's so tense, it takes her several moments to relax in Callen's embrace.

Nell sighs softly and allows him to hold her close. She takes comfort in his warmth.

"How do you feel?"

"That was awesome," she admits. "And terrifying. But mostly awesome."

"Someone's getting hooked on field work," Deeks singsongs over comms.

"Oh, no no no," Nell responds. "That was way too intense. I'll stick to my on-the-side jobs, thanks."

"Transmission received," Eric says a moment later.

"Good job, everyone," Hetty chimes in. "Given the lateness of the hour, I suggest you all take the opportunity to get a good night's rest."

"You don't want us to come back tonight?" Kensi asks.

"There's no need," Hetty answers. "The data must first be translated, which the computers can do overnight. We'll start first thing in the morning."

"Sweet!" Deeks is heard saying.

"And I expect the wardrobe to come back as spotless as when it left," Hetty adds. "This means no dropping tomato sauce or anything else on them like last time, Mr. Deeks."

"Oh, come on," he complains. "I was hungry!"

Nell giggles into Callen's chest and she can feel him shake his head at Deeks's antics.

"Ready to go?" he asks after a few moments.

"Uh, yeah," she replies. "I think I've had my fill of Venezuelan parties for a while."

* * *

><p>The ride back to Nell's apartment has a different energy than the ride to the party. Callen seems relaxed. Nell, on the other hand, is giddy.<p>

"How do you..." Nell starts, gesturing vaguely.

"Come down?" Callen helpfully supplies.

"Yeah..."

"Well-" Deeks's voice starts.

"First, we remove the earwigs," Callen interrupts, yanking his out.

Nell follows suit and they pack them back up in their case and Callen tosses it into the glove box.

"It depends," Callen starts. "Everyone's different. I try not to think about it-reading the paper helps. Sam goes for a run or assaults the heavy bag. Kensi's more of a TV and beer kind of person."

"I guess I'll have to figure out what works for me," Nell muses.

Callen smiles at her and takes her hand again, holding it for the remainder of the ride.

"I'll walk you up," Callen announces as he parks.

"You don't have to," Nell says automatically and she grins when he gives her a look.

"I know," he says and leaves it at that.

They walk towards her apartment, close together, hands still clasped. They bump shoulders from time to time and each touch is like a spark of energy between them.

"You did good today, Nell," Callen murmurs, standing close when they reach her apartment door.

"Thanks," Nell mumbles, digging through her purse for her keys. "I have a good teacher."

She unlocks the door, then turns, leaning back on it.

Callen kisses her softly, lightly.

"Are you coming in?" she asks, suddenly shy.

"Do you want me to come in?" he asks, his voice a low whisper by her ear.

Nell trembles and draws in a shaky breath. Maybe it's the lingering rush from the night's mission. Maybe it's what happened in the park. Maybe it's a lot of things.

"I want you to come in and I want you to stay."

Callen reaches behind her and opens the door, his other hand on her back, pulling her close to him. He flips them to the other side of the door and as it shuts, he kisses her, practically consuming her entirely.

Nell responds, her hands trying to find their way around his broad shoulders. She ends up hitching a leg over Callen's hip in an attempt to gain some leverage and he presses into her, making her moan.

He runs a hand all the way up her leg and pulls her up, making her wrap both her legs around him. They stay pressed against the door for a long moment before Callen backs away, making progress across her apartment to her bedroom.

Nell's hands explore where they can reach, eventually pushing his jacket off his shoulders. The tie was long gone, so it takes little effort to work enough buttons open so she can slip her hand inside his shirt and feel his skin.

Callen sighs into her mouth when she does and presses her up against the nearest wall, grinding into her and readjusting his hold on her.

They finally make it to her bedroom and Callen lays them down. She's not sure how much time passes as they kiss and explore, but his shirt is finally off. Suddenly, he flips them over in one smooth motion, one hand deftly unzipping her dress. The movement is so swift it makes her gasp.

Nell sits up, breathing heavily, and looks down at him. Callen's smiling up at her, eyes hooded.

"I would like nothing more than to rip this dress right off you," he says, hands running up her thighs. "But Hetty would kill me and dock my pay to cover the expense. In that order."

Nell giggles, then reaches up to pull the one sleeve off her shoulder. Callen stills under her and she forces herself to maintain eye contact, though she starts to feel self-conscious. His hands move again, gathering the hem of her dress and helping her pull the garment over her head and then she's sitting astride him in nothing but her underwear.

"I didn't know black lace was part of our wardrobe."

Nell flashes a wicked smile. "It's not."

Callen's eyebrows quirk and he tugs her down to him, kissing her and flipping them over again. Nell takes a moment to run her hands down his back, stopping at the tops of his pants to pull his undershirt free.

"You're wearing too much clothing," she protests.

"Let's remedy that."

With Callen's help, the rest of his clothing, and her undergarments, find a place on her floor and they're lying pressed together, skin to skin.

"Is this the time and the place?" she teases.

"It damn well better be," he growls, rolling her on top of him.

Nell raises an eyebrow.

"Show me what you want."

So, she does.


	9. Chapter 9

Callen is an insomniac. He doesn't sleep long, much less well.

This time, Callen has the best sleep he's had in _years_ and he sleeps a whole 4 hours. He thinks it's a minor miracle.

Maybe it's the bed, since it's a real one and not a bedroll on the floor. If so, Callen will have to concede Sam was right.

But he thinks it has more to do with the woman in his arms.

As if sensing his thoughts, Nell rolls, stretches, and curls into him.

Callen thinks he could get used to this.

He dozes for the next couple hours.

* * *

><p>The next time Callen wakes, he knows something is wrong.<p>

He's in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed. And it's empty.

Callen sits up just as Nell walks back in and his mouth goes dry.

In the ultimate cliché, she's wearing his dress shirt from the night before and he thinks it's unfair how much better it looks on her. She comes bearing food and his stomach rumbles at the sight, and smell, of what she's bringing.

Nell smiles at him and he can't help but grin. She has a waffle in her mouth. It's adorable and utterly absurd and he really, really wants to be that waffle.

He waits for her to put the food down before snatching her around the middle and tossing her on the bed. The waffle goes flying, but he manages to catch it and toss in on their plates before turning his attentions to Nell.

"Good morning," he murmurs, pressing her into the mattress with his body and trailing kisses down her jaw.

"Sorry if I woke you," she says with a sigh. "You looked like you were sleeping so soundly, but I was hungry."

"Well, we didn't exactly have dinner like we'd planned."

Nell giggles. "But we did have dessert."

Callen makes an assenting noise and kisses her, hands roaming. When she moves against him, his hands seem take on a life of their own and yanks open the dress shirt. They hear a button hit the wall.

Callen looks up. "Remember where that went. But right now, I think I want more dessert."

The coffee is way beyond cold by the time they get to drink it.

* * *

><p>Callen and Nell are, unsurprisingly, late for work. The clothes are returned to wardrobe-the wardrobe manager merely raises an eyebrow when Callen drops three buttons into her hand-and Nell scurries up to Ops.<p>

Since Callen keeps a go-bag in his car he's wearing fresh clothes. Sam still calls him on it.

"You doing the walk of shame?"

Callen merely raises an eyebrow.

"Those are the clothes you keep in your go-bag."

"Since when do you know what I keep in my go-bag, Sam?"

This time, Sam raises an eyebrow.

Callen just shakes his head. "Nothing shameful about it. And I thought you didn't want details?"

Sam laughs. "At least you look better than those two."

Callen looks across the bullpen and does a double take.

Deeks is half passed out on his desk, slightly drooling on a report.

Kensi's shoving as many aspirin in her mouth she can and has three bottles of water and two huge cups of coffee on her desk.

They're both wearing yesterday's clothes.

"No way," Callen muses. "_That_ is most definitely a walk of shame."

"Different kind of shame," Kensi says in a whispered voice.

"I've always thought she'd either kiss him or kill him," Sam chimes in.

If looks could kill, Sam would be a smoldering pile of ash. Kensi winces before she can turn her gaze on Callen.

"The latter," Deeks mutters. "With lots and lots of tequila. If there was any of the former I can't remember."

Kensi smacks Deeks on the head, which leads to a lot more wincing and groaning of a displeasing nature from the both of them.

A few minutes later, when Eric whistles for their attention, Kensi and Deeks whine and crawl under their desks.

Sam just shakes his head. "We'll fill you in."

"Eric's just lucky they're too hung over to use their weapons," Callen muses as they make their way to Ops.

Behind them, under the tables, Kensi's voice hisses, "You'd remember it if I kissed you."

"Oh, trust me, I do," Deeks replies. "I was just putting on a show."

Callen chuckles all the way to Ops.

* * *

><p>Nell is frantically typing at her station when Sam and Callen walk in. She spares Callen a quick smile before going back to what she's doing.<p>

"What have we got?" Callen asks.

"The mother lode," she mutters.

There's a short silence but she's too absorbed to really take notice.

"Right," Eric continues. "The data we copied is, indeed, the stolen weapons intel."

"What's the next step?" Sam inquires.

The doors to Ops slide open and Hetty walks in. "I've just spoken with SECNAV and the data we've gathered will be shared with the South American section of NCIS. They can handle whatever groundwork we need there, so we can focus our efforts here."

"About that," Eric pipes up, clearly not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. "Seems last night's extravaganza was Hernandez's last hurrah."

Nell stops what she's doing and looks up in surprise. "What?"

"Luis Hernandez and his entourage have been conveniently called back to Venezuela," Eric finishes. "They're already gone."

* * *

><p>The next week is a frantic mess of trying to find the Venezuelans, their connections, and barring them from making any progress into the advanced arms world. It doesn't help.<p>

Alvarez never makes it out of the United States. He's found dead on the Hernandez compound, clearly no longer needed by his boss.

Hernandez and his family make it out of the country, although the NCIS crew isn't exactly surprised. Frustrated, but not surprised, what with diplomatic immunity.

Nell is buried in data mining activities, looking for any and all traces that the Venezuelans are acting on the intelligence they have.

"We should have found a way to get rid of that data," she says to Callen.

"We could spend days, or even years, debating the actions we took," he tries to console.

"It doesn't make me feel any better," she sighs.

Callen spends a lot of his time working the streets with Kensi. Their fluency in Spanish makes their work a little easier, but it's not as if they're getting any better information.

"No one's talking," Kensi says with a frustrated sigh, flinging a folder down on her desk.

"You have all been doing a superb job," Hetty announces, rounding the corner. "I know this is a frustrating time for all of us, but we should take measures to ensure the stresses of the job are not affecting our judgment or our performance."

The field agents just look at their diminutive manager.

"Take a break," she says simply.

Kensi grabs her bag and hastily exits. Deeks watches her, concern in his eyes.

"She's going to give herself an aneurysm one of these days," Sam muses.

Callen turns to Deeks. "Well?"

"Well what?" he replies, still looking in the direction Kensi went.

"You're her partner, aren't you going to go after her?"

Sam gives Callen a surprised look.

"Somehow, I don't think she'd like my company," Deeks answers, looking down and picking at his bag.

"Go," Callen says. "But avoid the tequila."

Deeks waits a beat and then he's off, too, pulling out his phone and dialing Kensi's number along the way.

Callen can feel Sam's eyes on him. He turns and raises an eyebrow at his partner.

"What was that?" Sam finally asks.

"What was what?" Callen counters.

"That."

"What?"

Sam sighs heavily. "Stop avoiding the subject. That. With Kensi and Deeks."

Callen shrugs. "Let's just say I've learned to appreciate the company of another person."

Sam mocks fainting. "She's changed you!"

Callen rolls his eyes. "You should try it sometime."

Their conversation is interrupted by Eric nearly falling down the stairs.

"Something wrong?" Sam asks.

Eric looks between the two men and settles his gaze on Callen.

"Your girlfriend's about to demolish thousands of dollars' worth of equipment."

Eric's statement is followed by a muffled, but audible, curse coming from the direction of Ops.

"Did you teach her that?" Sam accuses.

Callen rudely gestures at Sam before heading upstairs. Quickly. He slows as he approaches the door and stands just between them when they hiss open.

"Nell?" Callen calls in case some object does come flying in his direction.

All he hears is a groan, which he deems is as close as he's going to get to a, "Come in."

Nell's sitting at the main table, arms stretched in front of her, forehead lightly tapping on the surface.

"Hey," he says, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Holy shit-you're tense."

"I've never been so frustrated when looking for information, even when going through legends!" she complains, head still bent. "Their lack of electronic communications is working way too well in their favor and- Oh. Ohhhhh."

Nell's words are reduced to happy sounds of contentment as Callen works out the knots in her shoulder muscles.

"C'mon," he says. "I'll take you home."

"But-"

"It can wait," he interrupts. "Hetty's orders. Besides, we never did have dinner at my place."

As he predicted, her curiosity over his home piques her interest.

"Can I-"

"And you can't bring work with you."

She raises an eyebrow at him.

"No, I can't read your mind."

Nell bursts out laughing.

"C'mon," he repeats, smiling broadly. "Eric fears for his electronics."

* * *

><p>Nell has to admit that she's been pretty tightly wound the past couple days. Tracking down Hernandez's exact whereabouts proves to be way more time consuming and difficult than she'd ever thought it would be. Her liaison with the South American contingent of NCIS is running into similar roadblocks which makes the situation all the more frustrating.<p>

She's looking forward to a little downtime with Callen and enjoys the car ride to his house.

When they pull up, Nell takes a moment to study its features. It's a nice size for a family. She knows it's one of the houses he stayed in as a foster child. They walk through the front door together and she's immediately struck by the acoustics that are amplified by the lack of furniture or anything, really.

"Wow, you weren't kidding," she muses when she walks in. "You really don't have anything here."

Callen shrugs, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter. "Never really saw a need. I did, at least, get a chair."

She looks into the front living room and sees a chair and a lamp, a small pile of newspapers and books on the floor beside it.

Nell wanders through the house and wonders what would drive a man to have almost no material possessions whatsoever. The master bedroom is the only other room that has signs of life and she feels a little sad to see his bedroll in one corner. The closet, at least, has a decent amount of clothes, but the house really has the bare minimum one person could need to live there.

"Told you," he calls from the doorway.

"How come you never got at least a bed?" she asks. "The floor can't be that comfortable."

Callen walks in and stands beside her. "I don't sleep much and, for a while, I moved around so much it was either a hassle to move a bed or expensive to keep buying new ones."

"You sleep at my place," she reasons.

"Sure. But you're there."

She walks over to the bedroll and sits down on it. It's comfortable enough, but there's barely enough padding for a seat, much less a bed. Callen sits next to her, back against the wall.

"Would you want me to stay here?" she asks.

Callen nods his head to the side, "Hmm, yeah. I think so. Guess I should buy a bed, huh? After all, this is _my_ house, now."

"Maybe so," Nell replies.

Without another word, she changes position and straddles Callen's legs, sitting on his lap. Nell leans in and kisses him, sighing softly when his arms wrap around her. After a few moments, she shifts position and manages to tip them over so they're lying on the bedroll with her on top of him.

"You like to control situations, don't you?" Callen asks, running his hands up and down her back.

"Type A personality and all that," she answers, unbuttoning his shirt. "Let's see how this bedroll compares, shall we?"

Later, much later, she's lying in his arms and he's tracing abstract patterns on her hip with his fingers.

"I should really get a bed," he comments.

Nell can't help but laugh. "Yes, yes you should. I'm going to have bruises for all the wrong reasons."

* * *

><p>The rest of the week goes much more smoothly. The Venezuelans have started to move on the intelligence they have, so Callen and Kensi hear rumors on the street they didn't have just a few days before.<p>

Nell and Eric are also more successful in their hunt for information and the NCIS group in South America has a sizable chunk of information they can use to infiltrate Hernandez's group and shut him down.

Things look to be going well for the teams.

It doesn't last long.


	10. Chapter 10

Life isn't fair. Callen knows this. He's lived it. But this? This is just beyond unfair. This almost makes him whine.

"What?" His tone is flat and dull, much like how he feels in the aftermath of Nell's announcement.

She wrings her hands in front of him, dismay in her eyes.

"I've been assigned to work a joint operation with the CIA and the South American NCIS unit on the Hernandez case."

"Assigned by _whom_?" he demands.

"SECNAV."

Callen double takes.

"The office or...?"

Nell looks down, sighing softly. "No, the actual person. Secretary Jarvis and Director Vance briefed me. In person. The NCIS group down there has uncovered more information on Hernandez's activities," she explains.

"Okay..."

"And they've begun buying core components and mobilizing resources. They're preparing to build the weapons."

Callen's silent for a long moment. "Why you?" he finally asks.

"SECNAV and the Director feel that my...familiarity with the case as well as my understanding of South American culture, politics, what have you," Nell trails off. "They think I could do more good there than here, especially since Hernandez and his crew don't often utilize technology when communicating their actions. Add to the fact that the intel in question is highly classified and we have a case that is being monitored closely not only by NCIS but higher up."

Callen cannot describe what he's feeling inside. There are too many emotions, mostly fear and despair. He doesn't know what to do with those feelings when they're not centered around himself. So, he does the one thing he knows he should do. He takes Nell into his arms.

"This is crazy," he says. "I could make all sorts of excuses why you either shouldn't go or why we should go with you but I know what the rebuttals will be."

He can feel Nell smile. "You always could see every side to a situation."

"Not that I won't try everything anyway to change this," he says.

Nell pulls away from him them and fixes him with a serious look.

"You...want to go, don't you?"

She nods sheepishly.

"It's not your fault," he says, knowing where her mind is going. "You couldn't have known Hernandez was going to mobilize so quickly."

"Still," Nell remarks. "I feel like I didn't do enough."

Callen searches Nell's eyes for a long moment but he doesn't really know what he's looking for.

"I have to admit, this isn't the way I thought this would go," she says.

He frowns in confusion. "What?"

"Me. Leaving," she explains. "I...kind of thought it'd be you. Maybe not this case, but, sometime."

And now Callen realizes an implication of the situation he never had to deal with before: separation, both physically and emotionally.

He pulls her close to him once more, kissing her softly. "We'll get through this," he murmurs.

* * *

><p>Callen spends the days up to Nell's departure alternately helping her prepare and trying to get himself somehow inserted into the team. The latter does not work at all.<p>

Hetty tells him the matter is out of her hands and he knows it's the truth. There is no logical or practical reason for the Los Angeles team to be involved with the South American unit's case. Bringing up their relationship is a complete non-starter and likely to do more harm than good.

Which is how he finds himself out of time and pulling up to the departure zone at LAX.

"Well," he says as he helps Nell with her luggage.

"Well," she replies.

They stare at each other for a long moment before embracing.

"I'll miss you," she says. He can hear the catch in her voice.

"I'll miss your bed," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

"You have a key."

"You won't be in it."

"Soon."

"But not soon enough."

He kisses her softly and pulls away before it gets any harder.

"I...don't know if I can keep in contact," Nell says. "But if I can, I will."

"I know."

Suddenly, Nell leans in close and hugs him again. "I love you," she whispers, and then she's gone, walking into the airport and he stares after her, ignoring the honking of other cars for a long moment.

When he turns around, he's surprised to see Sam casually leaning against the car. Callen raises an eyebrow at his partner. "Where'd you come from?"

"Get in the car before these drivers decide to run you over," he says.

Callen does so and as he's pulling away from the terminal, Sam speaks again.

"I cancelled your ticket."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam mimes sniffing the air. "What's that I smell? Oh, that's bullshit."

Callen doesn't dignify the comment with a response. "How did you know?"

"It wasn't hard. Once you find something you want to hold onto, you don't let go. I knew there was no way you'd let Nell go on this mission without you if there was anything you could do about it."

"You think I'd just leave the team?" Callen asks, trying to put indignation in his voice.

"You've done it before," Sam counters.

Point.

"I should be there," Callen finally says, smacking the steering wheel. "We should be there."

"You know we can't and you trying to interfere will only make things worse for both her and us."

"Fuck." It's a simple statement that embodies everything Callen's feeling. "This is why I don't have relationships," he mutters, but he doesn't really mean it.

"You know you wouldn't have it any other way."

Callen doesn't respond. How could he when he knows Sam's right?

"Turn around, will you?" Sam asks. "My car's in short term parking."

* * *

><p>Sam Hanna has seen some weird shit in his life. Hell, he's been through some of it. But he's never seen anyone slowly go insane and he's pretty sure that's what he's witnessing in one G. Callen. And he, as his partner, is going crazy with him.<p>

When he was a SEAL, there was one particularly harrowing mission that rattled everyone. The CO had them all on suicide watch, which doesn't happen often. Two of his brothers almost snapped. SEALs don't "almost" do anything. That's how bad the mission was.

Sam expects something similar with G. Like he'd said to Nell, he's so conditioned to things not going his way that it usually doesn't. He'd been happy when G and Nell had hooked up and it looked like things were going to work out. But after sending Nell on a dangerous mission, he's not so sure.

So, Sam mentally puts G on suicide watch, but it really turns out to be something more like a travel advisory.

It's exhausting. In the first week alone G tries to depart by plane and boat. Twice.

Then, Nell's first communication comes in and while Sam thought it would make G redouble his efforts, it actually seems to have a calming effect on him.

It drives Sam crazy, wondering when G is going to make his next move.

Another week passes and while G doesn't falter at all with their cases (Eric, on the other hand, is a mess), it's the in between parts where G's behavior is the most different. He's quieter and more withdrawn and it takes Sam way too long to realize G's lonely.

So, he gives the guy a break and almost misses the bus ticket that has G's markers written all over it. Almost.

"I'm beginning to think you're doing this on purpose, G."

"Maybe you're just good at catching me."

Right.

And then, the weirdest thing ever happens and Sam just knows G's gone over the edge.

G buys a bed. A real one: mattress, box spring, and frame. Sam sees it for himself, all alone in the middle of G's master bedroom and naked without any bedding. But it's a bed.

Two days later G's returned it.

Three days after that, there's another bed in G's master bedroom.

"Are you going to return this one?" he inquires.

G just shrugs, so Sam takes matters into his own hands, because he knows G won't return something that has been used (usually). He distracts G by asking him to get something he left in the car and by the time he's come back, Sam has removed all the packaging from the bed and placed it in a neat pile by the door.

"What."

"Thanks," Sam says, taking the package from G.

He opens the box to reveal some basic bedding and starts putting it on the bed.

"It's blue," Callen says.

"Brings out your eyes."

Callen's quiet for a moment. "If you suggest we try out the bed, I'm kicking you out."

Sam smacks him in the face with a pillow.

G keeps the bed, but he still sleeps on the bedroll on the floor.

Sam considers it a victory.

* * *

><p>Nell's communications back to the team are erratic but they arrive. Official weekly reports are transmitted to SECNAV and the Director's office that Eric "accidentally" intercepts. It at least lets them know Nell, and the rest of the team, are okay.<p>

Callen receives a postcard two weeks in.

From Germany.

Somehow, Nell's figured out how to reroute her postcard so as not to give away their location, much less their activities. All it says is, "Wish you were here!" and it takes Callen three days to figure out the dot in the exclamation point is really a microdot.

She's written him a letter and it fills him with a sense of loneliness he's never felt before. Callen's pretty sure Sam will catch him, but that doesn't stop him from booking the bus ticket.

Another week passes and another report comes in, but no communication from Nell herself.

When a week goes by that there is no report, even Hetty voices a concern and lets slip to the Director that they know about the reports. The Director does not seem surprised, but he is also concerned with the lack of information from the South American unit.

Callen knows something is wrong, but it doesn't make him immediately find a way down there. After all, he doesn't actually know where Nell and the other NCIS agents are.

He soon finds out.

The next day, Hetty calls an emergency meeting just after lunch.

"What's going on, Hetty?" Callen asks, his level of concern rising each moment Hetty doesn't speak.

"I have debated how to begin this meeting. No words are adequate." Hetty looks each of them in the eye. "I will say, however, that our Nell Jones is alive, but whether or not she is well is unknown. She's missing."

"Then, how do you know she's ali-" Deeks's question is cut off by a hiss as Kensi stomps on his foot.

"The safe house she and the South American NCIS unit was staying in was compromised," Hetty explained, tapping a few buttons on the touch screen to bring up a visual.

"Compromised?" Sam breathes. Even he seems taken off guard. "Hetty, it was obliterated."

She nods, and brings up a few smaller photos.

"This is all that remains of the entire task force."

Silently, they all count. One body is missing.

"The physical characteristics of the recovered remains match those of the task force sans Miss Jones," Hetty continues.

"So, where is she?" Kensi asks.

Hetty looks at Eric. He doesn't move, eyes transfixed on the bodies. Hetty clears her throat. "Mr. Beale?"

"Huh?" Eric startles. "Oh. Right."

A surveillance video plays for a few seconds before a small figure exits the safe house building. Even if they hadn't known what they were looking for, the whole team would have recognized Nell. A few seconds later, the building explodes and is engulfed in flames and the video feed cuts to snow.

Callen has been eerily silent since Hetty's announcement. His eyes take in all the details of the photographs on the screen. His mind tries, and fails, to look at the pictures objectively, as if it was just another case.

Because at that moment, G. Callen is paralyzed by fear. Terror, really. He's almost just witnessed the death of someone he loves. He _has_ witnessed a terrible act against humanity. And while part of Callen breathes a tiny sigh of relief that Nell had been spared the same, catastrophic fate as her colleagues, the other (annoyingly realistic) practical and cynical part of him knows the ugly truth.

"Hernandez?" he asks.

"Most likely," Eric answers. "We've been able to pick up some communication that he's moving his people around in that area."

The room is silent for a moment longer before Callen speaks again. "If we have this footage," Callen grits out through clenched teeth. "They might, too."

Hetty nods. "Precisely, Mr. Callen. Miss Jones is in more danger now than ever."

No one speaks a word as the implications sink in.

"Bring her home, Mr. Callen."

* * *

><p>The flight to Venezuela is quiet but filled with tension. Sam keeps throwing concerned looks G's way and Kensi and Deeks confer amongst themselves quietly, also glancing in Callen's direction.<p>

Callen himself stares blankly at the newspaper he picked up at the airport. He's seen all manner of horrible things in his life so he's sure his imagination could concoct a really terrible scenario. But, oddly, it doesn't. Instead, he feels a sense of purpose because he finally got what he wanted, just not how he wanted it.

No one complains when they head straight for the safe house remains after they land. It's late, but it's as if they all needed to see the place in person, first, before they could retire for the night and get a fresh start in the morning.

Kensi canvases the locals, gathering what information she can, and chats up an off-duty police officer as to the details of the explosion. Deeks works his charm on the tourists.

Sam and Callen go over the building's remains and circling the area, hoping to find some clue that Nell was there.

"I have to believe she'd leave some sign if she could," Callen mutters, although he's aware enough of his feelings to know it's more a hope than an absolute.

"We'll find her, G."

The news from the locals isn't good.

"Apparently," Kensi starts, "Hernandez has been a busy man. Not only has he been heading up the efforts to get materials, he's also been looking for laborers. Hernandez's men only arrived in this particular city a day before the safe house was destroyed."

"Do you think Hernandez suspected?" Deeks wonders.

"Maybe, but it's more likely one of the group tried to infiltrate and it didn't work. I know that was in the plans," Callen supplies.

"Whatever the reason, Hernandez knows now. He's mobilized a small gang to hunt down the unit," Kensi continues. "They know there's one left."

Callen curses.

"Where are they now?" Sam asks.

"Headed north, toward Caracas."

"Then that's where we go," Callen grinds out.

* * *

><p>It takes them two days of slow searching before they find her in an abandoned farm house 30 miles from the safe house. Callen immediately senses something, though he can't quite figure it out, when they walk into the building. He can tell by their posture that Sam and Kensi feel it, too.<p>

He almost misses it when she shows up behind them, but he feels _something_ and then she's right there, gun in hand and ready to fight.

To Nell's credit, if they had been the enemy, she would have done exactly what they'd trained her for: fight long enough-and effectively enough-to get away.

"Oh, my god," Kensi exclaims, immediately lowering her sidearm.

Sam and Deeks may have said something, too, but Nell locks eyes with Callen and everything else fades away. Then, she's all but running at him, jumping into his arms, wrapping herself around him, burying her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

"I've got you," he murmurs repeatedly into her ear as he holds tight.

The seconds tick by and she hears the sound of shuffling feet.

"Let's, uh, secure the perimeter," Sam finally says. "Outside."

Callen hears footsteps fade away and then they're alone. They stay like that, entwined, for a long time before Callen finally lets Nell go and sets her on her feet. He takes a step back and takes a good look at her.

She's dirty and disheveled. Her clothes are ripped in places and her nose is definitely sunburned. She has a combat knife tucked in her belt and her sidearm is secured in a holster that clips around her thigh.

"I'm probably a mess," Nell says, and then she does that adorable thing where she reaches up and scratches at the back of her neck to deflect attention.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he replies. "Actually, you look kind of hot."

She giggles then, looking up at him with a slight blush across her cheeks and Callen reaches for her, cupping her face in his hands. He kisses her, tender and sweet, filled with all the longing and loneliness he's felt for her in the weeks since her departure. That's the point when she breaks and Callen tightens his grip as Nell sags against him.

He holds her to him again and she's pulling in deep breaths because, for the moment, she's safe. She doesn't have to run, doesn't have to look behind her every step she takes.

But they both are.

Him, because it's second nature.

Her, because she still can't believe it's real and he's there and her adrenaline's stuck in the "on" position.

It saves both their lives.

Something changes in the air around them and before he can fully process it, Nell wraps her arms tighter around him, hooks a leg behind his knee, and slams him to the ground.

In another time and place, that move would be aggressive, intimately compromising, and downright sexy.

Now, it's just practical because two bullets fly overhead where they had just been standing.

Callen doesn't have time to be surprised or even realize he's had the wind knocked out of him. They train for this exact situation for a reason.

Nell rolls them to their sides and they both scramble to their knees and lunge for cover.

In opposite directions.

For their opponent, of which there seems to be only one, it's a great distracting move.

For Callen, it's more fuel for the nightmare he's living.

He can see Nell and she looks scared out of her mind, but she's found good cover and the enemy can't reach her.

Callen can hear shouting and gunfire outside, meaning their enemy has backup and Sam and the others are engaging them in combat. The sooner he and Nell can dispose of this one, the faster they can rejoin the others with, hopefully, one less opponent.

Then it all goes to hell in a hand basket in a way that will give both Callen and Nell nightmares for weeks to come. (But at least they live to have them.)

Just as Callen is about to draw the enemy's fire, he sees some movement behind Nell. Things happen very, very quickly, but to Callen's eyes, it goes by in ultra slow motion.

Their main opponent has a semi-automatic weapon that's discharging so fast and loud Callen can't verbally warn Nell of the enemy behind her.

The other guy takes his time, getting in close to her.

Callen makes a quick movement, catching Nell's eye long enough to signal her to turn around. Her eyes go wide and then her opponent tackles her.

Callen roars as he sees Nell go down, but forces his body to stay low. The main target is still firing.

A second later, the firing stops and Callen's brain processes the fact that he's probably reloading. Nell's still struggling with her opponent and Callen takes the opportunity to fire blindly over his cover for a couple shots before standing and getting a clear view. His target takes three shots to the chest before falling to the ground, dead.

* * *

><p>Nell Jones has spent the last three days running for her life and now she's fighting for it.<p>

Her opponent is bigger than her, stronger than her, and holy crap he _smells_. Some part of her brain is wondering why she's thinking about that, of all things, but the primary part of her brain is trying not to panic and figuring out a way to get out of this situation.

She yanks and scratches when it becomes clear he's trying to pin her down. Nell uses her knees to try to gain leverage or at least find some soft spot to inflict pain. She lost her firearm when the fight started. It was somewhere between them and Callen. And, luckily, she was able to dislodge the handgun her attacker was carrying and heard it skitter a few feet away. She focuses on making sure he doesn't have an opportunity to go in that direction.

Somehow, some way, Nell's able to get a lucky shot in with her foot and her opponent pauses for a heartbeat. It's long enough for her to squirm out from under him and she makes it two feet on her belly before he's on her again. She kicks, hard, and she's definitely not nice about it. She can hear the man grunt in pain, and his weight lifts off her.

Nell has two choices, now. She can take advantage of the fact that he's stunned and kick him again in the hopes she can take him down for the count or she can go for the gun. Both choices have their pros and cons.

She goes for the gun.

Nell's hand closes around the pistol's grip a mere second before the man grabs her by the back of her shirt, lifting her up and off the ground. But she doesn't let go of the gun and she automatically grabs the hand holding her with her free hand, digging in as hard as she can, trying to find the pressure point that will make him let go. He does and her feet hit the ground at an awkward angle so she stumbles, but she's still holding onto him, yanking him over her.

Nell absolutely has the advantage, now. She has one hand holding his wrist in a death grip in an extremely painful position behind him. Her other hand is holding his pistol and it's pointed at his face.

In that moment, it's just him and her. There's no one else in the room, in the world. There's no other sound but their breathing, unnaturally loud in her ears.

She can see his face and his eyes are cold, black. Nell knows that, given the chance, this man would not hesitate to kill her. She knows that, should she end his life, no one would blame or judge her.

But this isn't a choice she knows how to make. It isn't a choice most people are prepared to make. She's not sure she's willing to face the consequences of her actions should she pull that trigger.

And it's that hesitation the man sees and he grins up at her as if he has a secret.

"You can't do it, can you, little girl?" he sneers.

Nell says nothing, but also does nothing. She's caught in the gaze of a killer's eyes, wonders if she'll look the same if she makes the choice.

"I don't know," she finally admits and she's surprised her voice is clear and loud.

"But I can."

Callen's voice breaks through to her and then the loudest noise she's ever heard echoes in the room. The man is falling forward and she's falling backwards and then Callen's beside her, holding her upright. His hand closes around her grip on the pistol and she lets him take it from her.

"Nell? Nell, look at me."

His voice sounds like it's traveling through water, muffled and slow. She turns her gaze from the dead man on the floor to Callen's face.

"Is it over?" she asks. Her voice sounds funny to her ears.

"Yes, it's over."

"Oh, good."

And then she collapses, still conscious, but unable to keep herself upright any longer.

* * *

><p>"G!"<p>

"Nell?"

Sam and Kensi's voices echo through the small room as they run back in, Deeks bringing up the rear. They all have their weapons drawn, ready for anything.

"We're okay!" Callen calls out, cradling Nell close.

Sam takes in the scene, eyes immediately going to the dead men on the ground.

"Her?" he asks.

"Me," Callen responds, relief clearly in his voice.

Callen thought Nell might have had to pull the trigger. He's glad she didn't because he'd rather spare her the experience of taking a life, but he knows she's not going to come out of this unscathed. Sometimes, "almost" is just as bad as "did."

"She okay?" Sam asks.

Callen looks down at Nell and her eyes are still open, but not really focused.

"Shock, I think. And exhaustion, dehydration, and generally being terrified," Callen replies. "What's the situation out there?"

"All of the targets are neutralized. It's possible they called for backup, so we should leave."

"Tell me they didn't shoot up the car," Callen says, because that would be just their luck.

"Actually, they didn't," Deeks chimes in. "Call it a minor miracle or luck or-"

"Our ride," Sam interrupts. "We gotta go."

Kensi's on the phone with Hetty as they're getting into the vehicle.

"Hetty's secured a safe house for us in the next city. She's handling transportation out of the country, but that will take a little longer," she says, getting off the phone.

"Got an address?" Sam asks as he drives the vehicle out of the neighborhood.

"Inputting it into the navigator now," she replies.

They remain tense and alert until they make it out of the city and are on their way to the next one. Callen keeps a hold on Nell and she starts to come around halfway there.

"Hey," he says when her eyes lock onto his.

"It's really you," she whispers.

"Yeah, it's me. You can rest now, you're safe."

Nell smiles at him then closes her eyes, nodding off a few moments later.

Callen watches her until they arrive at the safe house.

* * *

><p>The safe house is really more like a safe villa, but the next city from where they were just happens to be quite prosperous so it doesn't stick out at all.<p>

Nell's awake and aware again, but Callen still carries her to the first room he can find. He sets her on her feet and she shoves a thumb drive into his hands before making a beeline for the bathroom.

Callen hears the water come on and a moment later, the door opens just wide enough for her to dump her dirty clothes on the floor.

Satisfied she'll be okay for a least a minute, Callen pokes his head out of the room and finds Sam inspecting the residence.

"Well?"

"This is a nice place and well secured. I wonder how many favors Hetty had to call in for this one," Sam reports.

Callen holds up the thumb drive. "Get this to Eric."

"Got it. You staying here?"

"I want to," Callen replies, turning his eyes back to the bathroom door, "but there are a couple things I need to grab, first. You get that to Eric."

They split up and Callen makes short work of procuring his duffel, some food, and water.

Nell's still in the shower and while that might not be enough of a cause for worry, Callen still does. He taps lightly on the bathroom door.

"Nell?" he calls.

No answer.

He hesitates a beat before opening the door. Callen slowly makes his way through the vast bathroom, apprehensive of what he might find.

"Nell?" he calls again.

Still no answer.

Callen reaches the shower and opens the door. When the steam clears, he finds her curled up on the shower floor, just sitting under the hot spray. He curses under his breath.

He knows what this is, knows she's still in shock. He berates himself for leaving her alone, but he's here now so he turns off the water and grabs a towel.

He gets her mostly dry before bundling a robe around her and carrying her back into the main bedroom. That's when the shaking starts and Callen quickly gets Nell under the bed covers, strips down to his underwear, and wraps her in his arms.

It takes a long while before Nell stops shaking and starts to relax. Callen keeps quiet, though, waiting for her to initiate a conversation or anything.

"Water?" she finally asks, voice hoarse.

"And food," he replies, snagging a bottle of water from the bedside table and handing it to her.

Nell drinks one bottle in one shot and Callen immediately puts another bottle in her hands followed by some food. It's clear that if she's eaten at all in the past few days, it hasn't been very well. But the water is the most important part.

She starts to sway and Callen just barely takes the water out of her hands before she slumps over, asleep.

Callen puts everything away and rearranges Nell into a more comfortable position. He leaves the light on, because he knows what's coming next. He wraps his arms lightly around her and waits.

* * *

><p>It's the nightmares that catch her by surprise.<p>

One moment, she's sleeping. The next, she's screaming her head off and thrashing.

It takes her long moments to process what's going on, the images of her nightmare fading in her mind. She sees Callen, patiently watching her, but not touching her.

Tentatively she reaches out, touches his arm with her fingertips.

"I'm here."

Those two words break everything inside her and she's throwing herself at him again, crying, and hanging onto him for dear life.

She doesn't know when she falls asleep again, but knows she has when she wakes from another nightmare an indeterminate amount of time later. And it keeps happening.

Each time, Callen's there for her. Each time, Nell takes comfort in his arms.

"Will it stop?" she asks after the third or fourth time.

"Yes," he says, kissing her forehead. "Your mind has to work it out."

"But I didn't..." she can't say the words.

"No, but you almost had to. Trust me, it'd be worse if you had."

* * *

><p>Late morning the next day, Callen stumbles out of the room to restock on their supplies. He finds Sam in the kitchen who, through some bout of clairvoyance, hands Callen a mug of coffee.<p>

"Thanks."

"You look like shit, G."

Callen doesn't answer and just sips his coffee.

"How is she?"

"Finally actually sleeping," he answers, examining a plate of Danishes.

"I take it you haven't."

Callen shakes his head, settling on a cream cheese variety.

"Think she'll be okay?"

"Of course," Callen bites out. "With all the therapy NCIS will make her go through she'll be just dandy."

"Hey," Sam calls out as Callen leaves, arms laden with various food stuffs. "She's got you."

Callen merely raises his mug in salute before exiting the kitchen.

* * *

><p>They finally receive some good news a few hours later.<p>

Nell's dozing on and off and vaguely aware of a voice speaking quietly near her. It takes her a moment to realize Callen's on the phone.

"Thanks, Hetty," he says, then hangs up.

Nell really wants to say something, but all she manages is a strange noise that she hopes sounds like a question. She sighs contentedly when Callen puts a hand on her head, stroking her hair gently.

"Hernandez and his crew have been caught."

This news makes Nell's eyes pop open.

"Wha-?"

"The intel on the thumb drive you saved was enough to get the CIA and NCIS-and just about every other federal agency allowed to operate on foreign soil-close enough to Hernandez to invade and incarcerate," Callen explains. "He made a lot of enemies murdering those agents."

"I'll bet," she murmurs, yawning. "So it's over."

"It's over," Callen agrees. "And Hetty's arranged a flight for us to be on in a few hours."

"Awesome. I'll be glad to be back in my own bed."

"Or mine," Callen quips.

"You don't have a bed."

Callen doesn't respond which makes her look up at him in question.

"You got a bed?"

"Yep."

"No way. Uh uh. I won't believe it until I see it."

"Suit yourself," he says with a grin and hopping off the bed.

"I guess I should get ready, then," she says, managing to sit up without too much difficulty. "I feel like I could sleep for a week, though."

"You've been through a lot. Don't push yourself," Callen says, kissing her on the forehead. "You good here?"

She nods. "Where are you going?"

"Planning our exit with Sam."

Nell tilts her head to the side and ponders the statement.

"Just because Hernandez has been apprehended doesn't mean they might not still be out to get us?" she tries.

"Exactly."

* * *

><p>The trip home is, thankfully, uneventful. Predictably, Nell sleeps all the way through the flight, but at least she doesn't have nightmares.<p>

Callen's more relaxed than he's been in many weeks, even dozing for a short while himself.

Surprisingly, Hetty meets them when they land.

"I am glad to see you looking so well, Miss Jones."

"Thanks, Hetty. It's good to be back."

"A full debrief will be held tomorrow; the Director and the Secretary himself are en route," Hetty addresses to the team. "But, before you rush off to the comfort of your own homes, you all are required to visit Medical."

A collective groan comes from the group.

"Medical?" Nell asks, not familiar with this particular procedure.

"Foreign land, foreign bugs," Sam says, clearly displeased.

"Sounds like a practical thing to me," Nell reasons. "Who knows what I might have picked up in my, ah, few days of free roaming."

Their immediate circle falls silent.

"What?"

"You'll see," Callen remarks.

An hour later, she unfortunately does.

"That was the most uncomfortable thing ever," Nell complains, clearly indignant. "Do they really have to poke and prod and…and…_probe_ that much?"

"Now you know why we all hate it," Callen laughs.

"You could have warned me."

"What, and let you miss out on having the full experience? Not a chance."

Nell sighs and shakes her head. "Now can we go home?"

"Sure. Your place or mine?"

Nell thinks for a moment. On the one hand, she'd really like to get back to the familiarity of her own place. On the other...

"Yours. I want to see this fabled bed you speak of."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it."<p>

Callen rolls his eyes.

"I mean, really, I...didn't think you'd do it." Nell tentatively sits on the edge, testing it out. "Feels nice."

"I wouldn't know," he admits.

Nell just stares at him and then starts laughing. "Somehow I'm not completely surprised. Besides, your bedroll is still laid out."

Callen just smiles and walks to her, tipping her face up for a kiss.

"Want to test it out?" he murmurs.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replies, tugging him onto the bed with her.


	11. Chapter 11

The next few days are intense and exhausting. Nell starts to wonder if actually having been on the mission was harder than dealing with the aftermath.

The debriefing is long and painful. The mandatory psychological evaluation and counseling sessions are alternately frustrating and embarrassing, but ultimately helpful.

She's physically tired and mentally drained, but she knows she just has to get through it and life will get back to normal. But there's one thing about the whole process that gets to her: paperwork.

"That's it," she mutters after the seventh nearly identical form she has to fill out. "I'm going to create a more efficient, _electronic_ way to do this."

"Many have tried, all have failed," Callen quips, dropping into a chair next to her and handing her a mug of tea. "It wouldn't be paperwork if there was no paper."

"This is supposed to be a paperless world."

"The world is supposed to be a lot of things," he muses, picking up a newspaper and flipping to the crossword puzzle. "But I still don't have a jet pack."

Nell sighs in frustration, resisting the urge to crumple the next form up into a tiny ball and throwing it somewhere.

"How come you don't have to do this?"

Callen shrugs. "I finished mine. But ours are much shorter than yours. You were on mission for weeks."

Nell makes a face.

"Just a few more pages and you're free," Callen encourages. "Then you can get back to the normal life you had before."

Nell's quiet for a moment before she speaks. "Will it...ever be normal again?"

Callen flips the paper down so he can look her in the eye. "As normal as it ever gets around here."

"You know what I mean."

Callen regards her for a moment longer. "Yes and no. This will be an experience you'll probably never forget and it will likely change the way you see the world from now on. But that is the new normal."

"I guess so," she says, feeling uncertain.

"Do you regret doing it?"

And it's that question that really makes her think. If she's truly honest with herself, she's not.

"No. I'm not. It's...unfortunate what happened and I know it just as easily could have been me in the explosion, but if I had to do it over again, knowing what I do now, I'd like to think I'd still do it."

Callen smiles at her and covers her hand with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

* * *

><p>If she thinks about it, Nell realizes that her relationship with Callen has shifted into a more comfortable place. It isn't stagnant or stalled, but it's as if they know each other well enough now to not be apprehensive about discovering new things about each other and themselves.<p>

She still has flashbacks, but Callen's been through this more times than she wished he had and his experiences allow him to help her work through them when they happen.

She still goes out on missions, too, but definitely more in a support staff role than anything else.

Training is also on-going and now Nell understands the importance of tactical application. Well, as much as they can accomplish in a simulated environment, that is.

But the part Nell likes the most is when things happen and Callen seems to open up a little more, share more of himself with her. It's usually just after a mission and she starts to think it's become part of his transitioning process.

The next time Callen gets thrown out of a moving car-he's actually thrown out this time, he didn't jump out-Nell's there to deal with the aftermath. During the mission, in Ops, Eric gives her a sideways glance when it happens. Nell doesn't really react, just sighs heavily.

Of course, Callen doesn't go to Medical ("Scrapes and bruises, that's all.") which she completely understands so Nell finds him crashed out on the lounge couch later that afternoon. His eyes are open, so she knows he's awake. Nell squats down near his head and stares at him.

Callen blinks.

Nell pokes him in the arm.

He moves only his eyes to look at her.

"No lecture?"

"Wouldn't help," she smiles. "I'll let Sam waste his breath."

"Smart woman."

She lays a hand on his arm. "Come on."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I'm taking you home."

"Trying to take advantage of a wounded man?"

"In your dreams," Nell smirks. "I like to think of it as taking measures to protect my investments."

"So, I'm an investment, now?"

"A hot commodity."

"Really."

"Only for me," she amends before he gets too cocky.

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm. Lack of interest from other markets."

"Ouch," he sighs, mocking a stab to the heart.

"Come on," Nell repeats, tugging on his sleeve. "Let's go home."

Gingerly, Callen levers himself off the couch and, with Nell's help, manages to get upright without too much grimacing.

The ride to Callen's place is quiet and, thankfully, smooth. Sometimes, their alone time is like this and Nell is actually kind of grateful. With Callen, she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence. The space between them is filled with just, well, _them_. It's comfortable.

Callen manages to get out of the car without too much groaning, but Nell can't help but bite her lip and scrunch up her face in concern.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Then Callen does this thing she sees him do from time to time. First, he looks at her with a smirk, the kind he gives Sam when he's being a mother hen. But the smirk stops just before it completes, as if Callen catches himself and realizes what he's doing. His expression turns more sincere, and Nell's breath catches just that little bit.

This is the Callen she's falling more and more in love with.

This is the Callen she wants to spend more time with.

Because these moments are the only times Callen doesn't have to play a part or be someone with a made up life.

Sometimes, Nell thinks he's just as surprised as she is when they share these kinds of moments together. She feels like the luckiest girl in the world to be able to be part of his life.

"Okay, so maybe it hurts a little more than it used to," he admits.

Nell grins.

"Maybe I'm getting too old for this," Callen sighs.

"Nah," Nell says as she walks around the car and takes his arm. "But maybe you're getting too old to get thrown out of moving vehicles."

* * *

><p>As soon as they enter his house, Callen heads straight for the master bedroom and flops, face first, on the bed. He feels Nell climb up beside him.<p>

"Where does it hurt?" she asks.

"Where doesn't it?"

And then he's in heaven because she straddles his hips and starts gently massaging his sore muscles.

Callen's eyes are hooded, unfocused on anything in particular as Nell makes him whole again and he thinks, not for the first time, that he could get used to this. In fact, he has gotten used to it in the months they've been together.

His eyes start to roam around the room and they settle on the few pieces of hers that she's left on numerous visits. A cardigan for the cool nights. A casual sun dress for the days. A change of clothes or three. He knows she has a toothbrush in the bathroom.

They're little things, and they're few, but Callen realizes he wants them to be more significant.

He exhales slowly and with it goes a tension Callen hadn't even realized he was carrying. He realizes that although Nell's becoming more and more a part of his life, he's still a little apprehensive, still unconsciously aware of the consequences of breaking rule number 12.

Callen also realizes he's absolutely not sorry for breaking it.

"I think you should move in," he says casually.

Nell pauses for a moment, then resumes her ministrations.

"Hmm, I don't know..."

Callen frowns. Was he pushing it with her? "What, you don't want to?"

"Oh, I do," she says, and now he can hear the smile in her voice.

"Then what's the problem?"

She drops down beside him and looks him in the eye.

"As much as I love your Spartan lifestyle, I'm going to have to insist on more furniture," she says, face serious for all of a second before she breaks into a grin. "And, no, you can't return it."

Callen groans and flips over onto his back. "Sam told you about that, huh?"

"Of course he did. He's the first person I went to with questions after I came back from Venezuela and discovered you'd bought a bed. We discussed the fact that you might have been replaced with a clone or we'd missed an actual miracle."

Callen eyes Nell suspiciously.

"I'm beginning to think it's a bad idea to let you hang out with Sam."

"It's not like you can stop me; we work together," she reasons.

"True, but if you lived here, then I could at least supervise on your off time."

"So," Nell drawls, "I'll move in so you can make sure Sam and I don't gang up on you too much."

"And you get...furniture."

Nell eyes him. "This is the weirdest deal ever."

"I think," Callen responds, pulling her to him, "that we've already established our relationship as being anything but normal."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Nell replies with a grin.

Callen has no additional remark, so he kisses her instead.

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>


End file.
